Leviathan's Daughter
by GoldenEagle
Summary: The story of an ancient legend and a love so strong that it changed Gaean fate...
1. Default Chapter Title

Leviathan's Daughter  
By GoldenEagle  
Author's Note: I'm new at Escaflowne Fanfiction, in fact, this is my first. Plus, I haven't seen all the episodes, just the first few, but I've read about the following episodes. Please ignore any discrepancies on my part. This story (after the Prologue) takes place right when Folken leaves to slay the dragon, actually probably about a couple of years before. I don't know how much older he is than Van, but I would guess seven to ten years? Oh well, here goes nothing.  
Prologue  
Carrie O'Brian heard the quiet moaning and whimpering of the small child in the room next to hers. She sat up quietly, still half asleep. The man in his mid-thirties stirred next to her. "What's wrong, Care?" He grumbled out, his words slurring together in the midst of wakefulness.  
"Nothing, honey. Persephone's just having a bad dream. Go back to sleep." She said calmly. Jonathan willingly obliged, his head hitting the pillow. Carrie slid off the bed quietly, her feet padding softly on the carpeted floor as her short, raven black hair tickled the corners of her face. Carrie opened the door out to the hall and immediately stiffened. That smell... It was-  
A loud, shrill sound broke through the darkness, the smoke alarm screaming its warning. A scream of indescribable pain emitted from Persephone's room and terror lept into her mother's heart. She ran down to the door of her child's room, which was only a few yards away. A faint, flickering light pushed through the crack of the closed door. "No! Oh, God, no!" Carrie gripped the door handle without thought and instinctively pulled back her hands and cried out in pain and fear as the metal of the doorknob she had just grabbed clinged do her skin, its melted matter fusing with her hand.  
"Jonathan!" She screamed, but he was already behind her, his eyes wide with panic, his veins almost bursting with adrenaline. Also without thinking, Jonathan picked his leg up and kicked down the door to his daughter's room.  
The couple was immediately engulfed with an unquenchable fire. By the time the fire department got there, nothing was left of the two, or of the door. The child's metal cage bed was only a pool of metal, the paint on the walls had melted, and the small container of white sand Persephone's parents had brought back to her from their second honey moon was nothing more than a mound of glass.  
The large flame had died out quickly in this house, all its supply of energy wasted up in only a few minutes before passing on to another house. Sirens wailed as a fire truck pulled up, its passengers' mouths falling open at the devastation of the house. Grim orders were shouted out and two men went in to look for the unlikely survivors. The floor still smoked as they set foot in, and the men split up silently to scout the place out. A few seconds later, one man gave out a shout of hope and astonishment. The other man ran to him, praying that nothing had gone wrong.  
"We have a survivor, Jim!" The first man yells through his mask as his partner approaches him. Jim scowled as he took in the two ash piles which had an unnerving resemblance to the outlines of a couple which died quickly.  
"I'm not up for jokes, Carlton." Jim hissed out. "I don't see how you could even smile in a place like-"  
Jim stopped mid sentence as he saw the child in Carlton's arms. Carlton held the young girl with her back up, and Jim was about to ask why when he saw the deep, bloodied burns on the girl's back. "Oh, God." He muttered, his eyes wide with horror.   
"We have to get her to a hospital." Carlton barked out before running out into the darkness of early morning.   
Shouts of astonishment emitted from a small crowd as they saw the living girl, lightly breathing, and then the backdrop of the demolished house. One older Hispanic woman in the crowd crossed herself before she spoke to no one and everyone. "It was a miracle of God. Only a demon or an angel could have survived that fire."  
Another form in the darkness merely sneered at the comment before replacing that look of discomfort with a sly smirk. The form was only known as Queto, the general label used for his kind. It meant, "Earth Jumper". Queto's grin grew larger. The new boy would be please. And when Dilandau became great, as Queto knew the young boy would, there would be an unspeakably large reward for the girl. Yes, a great reward for the fire girl.  
  
********  
Persephone's head was lowered, but her shoulders were stiff as she tried to keep from stretching the healing and scarring burns on her back. There were other minimal burns across the surface of her skin, but they didn't bother her as much. Persephone listened to the fakely nice woman speak to the reluctant woman.  
"I don't know. This may sound a bit illogical, since she is only five years old and all, but... I don't want the other foster children being hurt. Plus, I know the children will tease her about the scar on her face." The woman who was to be her not so potential foster parent blubbered out. Persephone subconsciously brought a dry finger to the large burn across her face. They said she was lucky it hadn't burnt through her eyelid. Lucky that she could still see with the scar which flashed over her left eye. Persephone could only slightly remember what caused the burn, but told no one. Afterall, who would believe that a feather of liquid flame had lighted on her? Sure, it would explain the feather shape of the pale skin, but it was too unlikely. The thoughts were overly intelligent for the five year old, but you must consider what makes a person mature. Pain. And the girl had experienced more pain over the last few months than most people ten times her age. Just then, the lady who had been trying to get Persephone into any foster home in the area came into the room and sank into her chair, sighing. Persephone knew the tone and body language she emitted. She had failed again. No one wanted the "cursed" child.  
The woman glanced at the girl as if she were merely a statue, not a creature of blood, then stood up without a word. The lady's heals tapped on the wood floors as she headed towards a phone. Persephone could hear her from where she sat. "No... No... I can't find a placed for the God damn kid! I don't care what wishes of the diseased parents, she's just going to have to be sent to an orphanage... Everyone's too damn scared of her! No one wants her!"  
A tear slithered out of Persephone's left eye, making the feather shaped scar tingle and slightly sting. She let her long and slightly burnt hair hide her face from the outside world as those green-blue eyes still let out tears. ...too damn scared... No one wants her...  
"You want some cookies, honey?" The woman asked in a grotesquely overly sweet voice.  
Rage flashed through the child and she glared up at the woman through her hair. The woman stumbled back, surprised. The girl's anger faded into grief, but she hid her tears. The woman sighed out in astonishment and relief as the girl's eyes shifted from the flickering, flaming color to the usual blue-green. She bit her lip, thinking of the fire in the girl's eyes. Persephone looked up and saw the wide and panic swept look in the woman's eyes.  
No one would ever love her. They were all too damn scared of her.  
  



	2. Default Chapter Title

Leviathan's Daughter  
By GoldenEagle  
  
Chapter One  
Nine Years Later  
  
Groups of knights and witches and princesses ran around, screaming and laughing and having a ball. Persephone sighed, watching what she thought was one of the oddest things that had ever crept into mankind's head. Halloween. She didn't really have anything against Halloween, she contemplated. Well, there was the fact that she had never really participated in the event, not since she was three or four years old. That was too long ago to remember. The only things that stuck in her mind between the ages of five and six were the things she didn't want to remember. Mostly pain, physical and emotional. Also there was the rejection. Persephone sighed heavily. She had avoided friendship. She had a natural fear that once a person got to know her (not that they ever tried), they would be too scared, and she would be hurt again. She refused to be hurt again.  
Persephone tilted her head to the side slightly as she heard the door to her room squeak open. She threw a cautious glance at her three sleeping roommates. She let a bitter grin cross her face. She hadn't even bothered to learn their names in the six months she had shared this room with them. After a quick inspection to see if they had heard anything, Persephone stood and looked to the door, waiting for the person she knew was there.  
She saw their silhouette against the light in the outside hall as the person stood in the dark stairway and fumbled with a bag at her side. The intruder jumped when she glanced up and saw the seemingly primal reflection of light in Persephone's eyes. "Shh! Keep your mouth shut, Goth Girl, or you're gonna get your ass kicked tomorrow, you hear?" A voice hissed out below a whisper.  
For a moment, Persephone let a small amount of rage boil up in her. The intruder took a step back. She did know this girl's name. She knew it because Meredith Tushon was the leader of a large group of girls who had a famous reputation for causing trouble. Persephone let her rage fade into indifference, not noticing the way Meredith relaxed a little bit after the red glow had left Persephone's eyes.  
"What do you want?" Persephone whispered coolly, trying not to wake the other girls.  
Meredith shrugged and a person could feel the nonchalant attitude flowing off her in waves. "It really has nothing to do with you."   
"It's my dorm."   
Meredith sighed and the last look Persephone could catch on her face was one of total annoyance as she closed the door and the room was once again shrouded in darkness. "Duh. Your window is the only one that opens to a tree on this side of the Home. Plus, you always leave your door unlocked." The Home. The orphanage. Just another word, another piece of the fiery girl's past that showed how rejected she was.  
"You're sneaking out." Persephone said indifferently.  
"Uh, yeah." The pride seeped through Meredith's voice. "They won't even let us out on Halloween. I feel like I'm in a freaking prison. What loser would intentionally stay at home on Halloween." She looked up at Persephone suggestively before she pushed up on the window, struggled, and the fell backwards with a loud thump as the window flashed open quickly. She threw a quick and nervous glance at the sleeping girls, but one of them only stirred, a contented snore escaping her throat.  
In the moonlight, Persephone could now see Meredith's costume. It looked as if she were going as a movie star or something, her makeup too dark and bra obviously stuffed. Persephone smirked cheerfully as she saw the girl's dress tucked into her hose. Persephone said nothing. As Meredith crawled out the window, she glanced harshly at Persephone. "Don't tell a soul, you hear? And don't you dare follow me!" With that, she was gone.  
As she leaned out the window to catch the smells and the sounds of laughter, Persephone looked up to the stars. A red tinge flashed through one and caught her eye. It made her frown slightly. It made her want to go home, wherever home may be for a child who has lost everything at a young age.  
Something stirred within her as the cool, harvest breeze of October floated into her lungs. Perhaps she should go out and have fun... Perhaps she would meet people she could relate to... People like her-  
Persephone laughed bitterly at the though. Like her? No one was like her. Sometimes she felt like more of a demon than a human. She brought her head in and rested her hands on the window pain when a movement caught her eye. She looked up and saw a girl staring back at her. The girl and sad, blue eyes and a pointed nose, full lips, and amazingly long, fiery red hair that stood out against her pale skin. She was gorgeous. She was the reflection of Persephone.  
Persephone sneered at the girl staring back through the glass at her in light purple pajama pants and a silk shirt that came up to her belly button. She thought her ugly, a horrible, retched creature with no real past and a very horrible future. Laughter was carried in by the wind and her attention was drawn outside again as children played and asked for candy. With a large bit of reluctance, some part of her taking over she didn't know she had, Persephone grabbed a large trench coat and tennies and pushed out the window into the cool night atmosphere.  
No one saw her leave. No one saw her come back. In the morning, they realized Persephone had disappeared... She never came back.  
Chapter Two  
Persephone was starting to wonder why she had come out at all. She felt out of place around so many people. So many people would stare up at her for seconds at a time as she passed. She could feel their gaze lingering on her, and on her snow white scar in the shape of a delicate feather. She thought they stared at her because they thought her strange and awkward, maybe even revoltingly ugly. But the opposite was the truth. They stared at her in awe. But no one said anything to make her aware of her beauty. No one ever did.  
As Persephone rounded a corner, her head low, a body barreled into her and almost knocked her down. She blinked slowly a couple of times in front of her before looking down at the small girl before her. The girl wore the costume of an angel, a cheap halo dangling by wire above her head. She was scrambling to grab the candy that had fallen out of her bag. Persephone knelt down beside her and helped her grab the sweet treasure scattered across the ground. A few kids looked greedily at the riches on the side walk, but all thoughts of sneaking off a piece was snuffed out as they saw the tall, somehow powerful girl leaned over helping the child.  
The child looked up with surprised eyes, her mouth elliptical. "I'm sorry." She muttered. Persephone smiled sadly, which was the only smile she knew. The mature and pained look intimidated the small, blonde haired girl. She could have only been seven or eight years old.  
"Don't worry about it." Persephone said as they stood, all the candy intact. She laid a sisterly hand on the other girl's head. I was once like her, she thought, quietly. Once upon a time...  
"Hitomi! Where have you been!" Persephone stepped back as the girl's mother rushed forward and scooped her child up, placing a warm kiss on her forehead. A strange pain shrieked through Persephone, like the gods were toying with her.   
The mother glanced up at the strange girl in her pajamas and marched her daughter off, glancing back ever so often to make sure the redhead didn't do anything creepy or offensive. The small girl watched her as she left, giving a final wave as her and her mother turned a street corner and disappeared. Hitomi, a part of Persephone's mind mused. Immediately her memory devoured the name and face. For some reason, I need to remember you, child, Persephone thought, slightly confused.  
Persephone sighed and leaned against a small picket fince. "Do you have any candy, lady?" A little kid dressed up as a pirate asked. She shook her head in the negative and the child passed.  
"Hello." The voice startled her and Persephone glanced up. The boy before her was her age, maybe a little younger, and his height was short of hers by a few inches. His hair was grey, until the light hit it and it turned a startling shade of white. He smiled to reveal straight white teeth. His attire was quite impressive, and Persephone found the costume he wore to be of much better quality that the others that had been roaming the streets. And every once in a while, when the wind blew and ruffled the boy's garments, Persphone could catch glimpses of something like what she saw in movies. The things that a person may pull a sword out of in times of peril. Persephone raised an eyebrow as a strange, sinking instinct rushed through her.  
"If you're looking for candy or something, I don't have any." She said, thinking the boy was a little too old to be trick-or-treating. She turned her back away and began to walk in the other direction when she felt the boy's hand on her shoulder. She turned around, startled.  
The boy removed his hand before speaking. "Let me introduce myself. I am Dilandau. You must be Persephone, am I correct? Good. Now we can do this the hard way... Or the easy way." He shrugged indifferently to indicate niether way bothered him.  
A small tremor traveled through her and prey instincts clouded her brain as she realized, with the skip of a heartbeat, that she was being hunted. Without a word, she turned around and ran, turning the street corner at full sprint. She chanced a glance back and saw that the boy was just standing there, a small smile playing across his face. When Persephone looked back to where she was going, she only caught sight of a shirt of rough material and the flat end of a sword before she was down. Dilandau smiled as he rounded the corner.  
"Well done, Queto. Let's go back home."  
  
Author's Note: By the way, if you're wondering who Leviathan is, he's not really a character in the book. Leviathan is a Biblical creature, much like a dragon. It's supposed to spit flames and is supposedly invincible. But, anyways, just thought I'd say that.  
  
  



	3. Default Chapter Title

Leviathan's Daughter  
GoldenEagle  
  
Author's note: I'll make a pathetic attempt to correct my mistakes in the last chapter through this one. Make sure to read prologue, chapter one, and chapter two before reading this. My computer just reset when I was almost done with this installment, so I'm slightly pissed. Anywho...  
  
Chapter Three  
Queto put up with the small boy's rantings about not being able to stay in the false form of him older self. Queto had heard of the boy through prophesy around the time of the girl's misfortune. It had been no surprise to him when the child had become part of Zaibach's growing empire, seemingly appearing out of no where. Though just a child, he had the hate planted into him, and with the training that he was receiving, it was no doubt that he would rise high in the empire. Yet, still, the boy had been too young, and small, to be intimidating to the girl, so Queto granted him a short vision of himself as someone older. Now the child was complaining about not having the older body of moments before.  
"Why can't I?" He wailed.  
"It is a trick of the mystic moon. Plus, you will grow into that form." Queto said impatiently as he picked up the unconscious girl, a large knot and bruise forming on her forehead.   
Dilandau looked at the girl curiously, his eight year old eyes wide with taking in the girl. He then stuck out his lower lip as he noticed his new toy in such a vulnerable state. "I thought you said she was special. She doesn't look at all threatening to me."  
Queto smiled slightly at the child's lack of experience. "We haven't taught her to master herself yet."  
  
**********  
Persephone stirred slightly on a soft, velvety material. "Mmm..." She let out a low moan, her head throbbing with a pain she had never known before. "Why's it so cold?" Her words slurred together, making note of her thoughts that someone in the dorm should have turned the heater on and that she should have closed the window...  
But she had gone outside where everyone stared, and there was the girl, and then- Persephone bolted up as she remembered her capture, but she cried out as the pain in her head exploded, and she fell back down onto the bed. She opened her eyes, and far above, maybe twenty feet, she looked through the ceiling, which was made of glass. Two moons shown down, casting an eerie light into the dark room. One moon looked peculiarly familiar...  
The lights to the room erupted suddenly, and Persephone squinted her eyes. She sat up and struggled with the chains on her wrists and ankles momentarily before looking up across the great room. A child stood there, two guards at either side of him. He looked vaguely familiar, but-  
Her eyes widened as she recognized him as the boy who had captured her, but, younger? He smiled at her reaction. "I see you're awake. I'll have some clothes sent down to you, and then you'll be led up to the conference chamber. There I will introduce you to your new master." Persephone felt like spitting at the boy, but couldn't, a strange intimidation passing over her from the boy's age.  
Persephone sighed, looking around. Where the hell was she? Perhaps she had been taken to be held for ransom and was now in some strange building. Not that anyone would ever come for her... A cold shiver ran up her spine. She glanced up again and studied the moons. The moons. Two moons. One was white, illuminating and reflecting. The other was blue and green, as if... Persephone gasped. Earth? Her earth? "Where am I?!" Persephone wailed out as fearful tears fell across her face.  
"You are on Gaea." A voice said as a small, heavy woman came in, carrying a package. "Over Corden's land, to be more specific."  
"Gaea?" Persephone muttered, glancing back at the two moons above her.  
"Here, let me get those chains off of you. I don't understand why a person would put chains on such a modest looking girl." The woman said as she unshackled Persephone. "I'm Zenla."  
"I'm Persephone," she said quietly as she rubbed her wrists and ankles. She looked oddly up at the woman. "Why am I here?"  
The woman chuckled warmly as the guards closed the door behind her, one standing on the outside, one still on the inside. "'Twas fate, child. Everything is of fate. But, if you wonder why Queto was interested in you, I am unsure."  
Persephone sighed and eased herself off the bed, but almost fell, her limbs cramping from what she had figured out must have been a very long rest. Persephone thought her calmness was a little odd. She felt as if this was quite normal, being kidnapped and traveling to other planets. Perhaps that is the way she deals with shock. Who knows?  
"How long have I been asleep?" Persephone mumbled as the woman handed her the package. She opened it slowly, as if something dangerous hid within it. But what met her eyes made her release a slow, controlled breath. A long, elegant dress made of emerald green and blue feathers shone up at her.  
"You've been out for a couple of days, milady." The older woman came and looked at the dress. "It is made from peacock feathers. You know of peacock's, do you not? They are from your moon, afterall."  
"They don't have peacocks here?" Persephone asked, stunned. A new respect washed over her for the dress.  
"Oh, no, no, my dear. Whoever brought you such a dress went to great lengths to do so. It is priceless."  
"Oh." Persephone said, speechless. "I can't possibly wear this!" She hissed out suddenly, dropping the dress onto the bed. Priceless dress? On her? She wanted to laugh out loud in complete disbelief. She didn't even deserve one thread off the dress!  
"Child, you must!"  
"You're very kind, but-"  
"No," Zenla interupted. "I mean you must. If Lord Dornkirk wishes to see you in the dress, you must be in it. If you wish to survive in the Zaibach empire, you must follow Dornkirk's wishes." Zenla's voice had grown less kind and took on the tone of a threat. Persephone took a step back, stunned, but realized she had nowhere to go. "Now get dressed, child." The voice was normal again, full of kindness.  
Persephone glanced nervously at the guard as she picked up the dress. Zenla didn't seem to notice. "Um... Excuse me?" Both Zenla and the guard looked up at her when she said this. "Could the... um... guard please turn around or something?"  
They both stared blankly at her before the guard went back to his usual position, ignoring her request. "He must watch you at all times." Persephone frowned at the woman. What's up with them, she thought, shaking her head and trying to hide the redness that crossed her face because of her shame. It's not like I'm going to attack them!  
"My gods, child! What happened to your back!" Zenla yelped out as her shirt came off. Persephone threw on the dress quickly, trying to hide the one thing she wished no one to ever see. Embarrassment and more shame engulfed her and tears stung her eyes. The scars from her broken childhood blazed across her back, where she had been burnt in the fire worst. Persephone wiped away her tears angrily, before turning around, her face cold and expressionless. The servant knew not to push for any more answers. "Here, child, let me do your hair and then we can be off, hm?" She said quietly, more out of fear than sympathy now.  
Go ahead, fear me, Persephone mused. Fear me.  
  
***********  
  
Persephone walked where the conference would be held on delicate, silk-materialed slippers. She was the only one in such garb and she felt out of place as people stared. They always stared. As she entered the cold, metallic room, she held her head high. But her mask of self confidence faltered as the doors shut behind her and everything went black. Then, a strange, flickering light filled the room and something like a movie projection covered the wall she was facing. An old man, his white hair slightly curly, his face covered with a beard and mustache looked back at her. Almost as if he really could see her...  
"Is that the girl?" He asked. The child came out of a dark corner, unnoticed by Persephone until then.  
"Yes, Lord Dornkirk. This is the girl." His voice sounded so strange, so cold and professional for such a small child.  
"Step forward." Persephone hesitated, her mind reeling. But, after a pause of a few seconds, she moved forward shakily and silently, her arms held down stiffly by her side. She stared at the ground before looking up. The man seemed to be studying her. "What is your name, child?"  
"Per-Persephone, Lord." She said, remembering the title that had been used on him.   
"Hmm... Persephone. You begin training tomorrow." With that, that projection disappeared, leaving the room eerily dark.  
The lights snapped on. "You may go back to your room." The man which had aided the child in her capture said.  
"Tha-That's it? I got dressed up and everything just to have a thirty second talk with a projection?"  
"We'll send you some food." The man said, ignoring her question. Persephone gaped at him before storming off.  
As she exited the room, she watched the child do the same. He yawned largely and rubbed his ruby-red eyes. He met her gaze and gave a small, childish smile. Persephone was surprised, this being the first sign of a child nature in the boy.  
As Persephone entered her room, she realized that the boy had followed her. "Stay outside." He said to the guards before they shut the doors. The boy then went to a large chair and sat down. "I guess you're wondering why you're here, hm?" His voice had picked up a mocking tone and Persephone sighed patiently.  
"Yeah, slightly." She muttered.  
"We, meaning the Zaibach empire, have a large interest in you, Persephone of the Mystic Moon." He said, smiling that strange, intelligent smile.  
"I know what the Zaibach empire is, slightly, but who are you?" She asked, looking at the boy as she let her waist length, curly red hair down. It wooshed and dangled, the air picking it up and making it dance.  
"I am Dilandau, Lord Dornkirk's chosen." He said with pride.  
"Oh, really." She muttered, not really paying attention as she pulled off her slippers, slightly remembering that he had introduced himself before. There was no reply and she could feel the boy's gaze on her. Silence issued for a few moments before Persephone began to hum a tune she could remember from somewhere, on a world far away. A few minutes passed as she got her bed ready to sleep in when she turned around.   
The white haired boy sat in the chair, his head tilted over, his eyes closed, his breathing deep. A strange feeling passed over Persephone as she walked over to him. She rolled her eyes at her own thoughts and cursed herself for her own heart before picking the child up. As she headed for the bed, the boy in her arms, he mumbled out something. She stopped and focused fully on his voice and heard his words. He snuggled close to her chest, seeking her warmth. "Brother." He muttered. Persephone wanted to laugh as he called her by the name, but stopped as he said something else. "I love you."  
She was shocked. She sat the boy down on the bed, pulling up the blankets to his chin and watching him stir in his sleep. She stepped back and sat in the chair he had just been in, her eyes wide. Stunned. How long...? How long had it been since she had heard anything remotely similar to this boys words? Pained tears streamed down her face as she put her head in her hands. He didn't fear her.  
Zaibach had hooked her by accident, gaining her loyalty by the words of a child.  
  



	4. Default Chapter Title

Leviathan's Daughter  
GoldenEagle  
  
Author's note: I am not sure if Folken fought the dragon on earth or if the series went into detail, but I have my own version of the scene. If it does not go along with the series, pretend... Um... Just pretend! Yeah...  
  
Chapter Four  
  
Dilandau sat on Persephone's shoulders, content in watching all the lands they passed. All the lands they would conquer. It was amazing to think that Dilandau had grown in the two months that Persephone had been on Gaea. He was heavy, but she had grown stronger, too. She had not gone through the rough training yet, but Zaibach had whipped her into shape. Within the month, she would be going to the Zaibach base to be trained. For what, she was not sure. Still, little was said about her coming here and why.  
"I'm going to rule the world, Persephone!" Dilandau said with a stretched smile on his face as they looked out a large widow from the main deck.  
"Are you?" Persephone muttered, fairly indifferent and zoned out to everything around her.  
"Yes." Dilandau said, smiling down at her. "I'll destroy all those in my way, crush them! And then they will fear me." He laughed out an unchildish laugh.  
Persephone frowned slightly, taking heed of his words. All she searched for was acceptance. He searched for fear. A cold feeling echoed through her chest as she realized that he wasn't exaggerating.   
Dilandau did not want war. He wanted massacre.  
  
**********  
The breeze washed through the fifteen year old boy's greyish blue hair. The future king of Fanelia smiled light heartedly as he trudged on in the light armor he wore. Today he would conquer. Today he would be king. He had been traveling for a long while before he recognized the nesting grounds. The smile on his young face wavered. Fear crept into his system.  
It was the fear that betrayed him. They could smell it. One large, hideously scaled monster attacked from behind him. Folken only had the chance to let his eyes widen as he turned before the creature struck.  
  
*******  
The day was good, the breeze warm. Dilandau rode his horse by Persephone's side, his mind on the bloodshed that would be granted him when he rose in the Zaibach empire. Persephone rode her creature easily, a glow of contentment across her face. They had stopped their endless traveling for supplies and food. It was the first time Persephone had been outside, on real ground, in two months. They had brought her along as more of a good luck charm than anything. They said if they had trouble, she could fight. She knew they really didn't expect her to do so. Plus, no one ever bothered their large group.  
Until today.  
The first sign of the ambush on the group of one hundred and twenty-one men was the whinny of horses in the group as they smelled the attack. It was silence besides that, the birds even holding their breath. Then the battle cry rang, and from all around the group, men on foot and horseback crashed down upon them.  
Persephone withdrew a sword from under the black cape she wore, its metal not as good as some of the higher ranked officers and warriors, but good enough for short fights. She moved her horse in front of Dilandau's, slashing off a man's head who had been charging at them. She heard Dilandau laugh out in a strange voice and then the sickening sound of blade hitting flesh. She turned around and saw the blood on Dilandau's sword, and a blood thirsty smile cracking his face.  
She shuttered before she was forced to bare down again on another attacker. She glanced back and noticed Dilandau was not behind her anymore. Instead he had charged those coming at them. Blood stained his horse's white coat crimson and blood was smeared across his face. Blood. That was all she could see. A cold instinct of despair hit her.  
She didn't see the man behind her on horseback, but she felt his arms wrap around her, lifting her light form up. She cried out in anger as he picked her up off her steed and onto his, gripping her wrist so hard that she dropped her blade in pain. "I have the Guardian! Move out!" He cried above the noise of battle, and people began to retreat as he galloped his horse off the trail and into the forest. He fought Persephone the entire way. She struggled, kicked him, even bit him. But all he did was grimace as she bruised and tore at him. This must have happened for atleast thirty minutes as he galloped his horse further and further into the woods before Persephone gave up, exhausted.  
The man finally reached a cleared out area, other men there and some still arriving. He dismounted his horse and lifted Persephone off to do the same. She gave a little fight, sinking her teeth into his bare and bloody arm one more time before she gave up, too weak to even stand. The man had to lift her in his arms and carry her to the camp fire. He laid her down and she panted, looking up at the men staring down and gawking at her, her eyes betraying her hatred. Her blue eyes ignited, their color melting into the movement and light of flames. A few of the men stepped back, but it angered her more. Their fear of her struck too deeply to be dismissed. A strange pain traveled up and down her back, on the inside, as if she had been struck with lightening. She calmed herself. The fire in her eyes died. The pain in her back disappeared.  
The man who had brought her there pushed through the crowd that had gathered and leaned over her slumped over body. "We're sorry to do this, Guardian," he said fearfully. "But we had to save you. The prophets of our town, the ones who can be trusted and who have saved our town many times, have spoke of you in Zaibach's clutches. We cannot let them make you into a demon."  
What a lunatic, Persephone thought, quietly. She stared at him calmly, sizing him up. Deciding if she could take him down when she fought him. She licked her dried and cracked lips. One of the men noticed her thirst and stepped forward, his head low and humble. "You look thirsty, oh, Great one." He handed her a pouch of some liquid. She grasped it quickly, cautiously. She opened it and smelled of its contents, making sure it wasn't poison.  
It smelled familiar, but she couldn't put her finger on what it was. She shrugged and took a quick gulp of it before coughing and sputtering. It was a hard liquor. A light flashed in her eyes and a mischievous smile, one she had actually picked up from the younger Dilandau, passed her lips. "Guardian, huh?" She muttered, that vicious smile growing larger. The men looked at her, transfixed by the horrible look that crossed her. "Here you go, cowboy." She said as she threw the canteen back at the man who had given it to her. But she over threw it, and it went over the man's head. She ducked behind a large log and covered her head. "Take that, you cowardly bastards." She heard the pouch hit the fire and ground her teeth as she heard the explosion and the agonized screams. Once she felt the heat whip past her, she was up and running.   
She grabbed one of the horses, making sure it was bound with water and food before she let out a high yip and brought the creature to a full sprint. Within minutes, the camp was out of sight. Persephone stopped her horse quietly, trying to figure out where to go. She looked up to the stars, searching for the north star. She slapped herself mentally as she remember that the north star would be warped here. No use to her.  
Persephone cried out in agony as a pain ripped through her shoulder. The cry was echoed in her mind. She looked up, tears in her eyes, her heart beat rising despite the fact that she wasn't afraid. She felt something drawing her further into the forest. She reluctantly and urgently kicked her horse in the sides, the pain more distant now as she brought the horse forward, making the creature move faster than before. The animal's mouth frothed and its nostrils went wide with effort.  
Suddenly the creature stopped, almost throwing her forward. Yet she did fall off when the creature reared backwards. The pain in Persephone's arm was intense now and she caught herself with one arm as she hit the ground, the other too shattered with pain to control. She let tears fall freely down her face as she picked herself up. Right as she began to look for her long gone horse, she heard the roar of a large animal. Her heart pounded on its own accord, despite the fact that, oddly enough, the animal scream announcing itself as conqueror seemed familiar. Yet that urgency pushed at her just the same and she ran forward, holding her pained arm close to her chest.   
She came into the clearing so quickly that she had to stop and take in the scene to make anything of it. All she could see was the back of a creature, its scales glistening in the sunlight. Then she smelled the blood in the air and heard the gasping breaths of a human. An illogical fear hit her as fate impressed upon her the way it should be even as she saw the way it was about to become. "Stop!" She cried out, reaching both her hands out, her voice desperate.  
The creature snapped around and let out another roar. She could feel its steaming breath, smell the stench of the carnivore. It approached her, but she held still, meeting its eyes, instinct taking over when experience could not.  
The dragon slowed as it reached her and inhaled her scent. It turned its head to the side so it could meet her eyes. It blinked, slowly, and her eyes suddenly lit up, the fire there, the shifting flame that few ever saw. And those who did feared it.  
The dragon let out a deep whimper before lowering its head in a way that resembled servitude. Persephone's eyes faded to their original blue and she stared at the predator quizzically before she spoke again. "Leave." The animal gave her one final glance, then a regretful one back from where it had come from, then left, disappearing into the forest.   
Persephone's gaze traveled to the blood stained grass where the beast had conquered. She saw the form of a human, she couldn't tell if it was male or female from where she was, sprawled out. She felt a sinking feeling. As she slowly drew closer, she saw that it was a man, a boy, really. He didn't seem to be breathing-  
"Argh!" He cried out in pain, gripping his shoulder. Persephone jumped, caught off guard. She swallowed deeply as she saw the place where his arm should have been. His tear filled grey eyes met hers and he snarled at her, much like an injured dog. "Get away." He howled. "Don't look at me!" He hissed out through pain gritted teeth, trying to turn around in shame.  
Persephone was startled to feel a tear streak down her face. "It's okay." She lied. He glanced up at her with bitter grey eyes. She stepped forward quietly, trying get a better look at how bad his arm was bleeding.   
"Get away!" He yelled as he slashed a dagger at her with his one good arm. She jumped back, surprised and pissed off at the same time. And then the boy bent over in agony. "Just let me be."  
Her eyes widened as she realized what he was saying. A cold precision cut through her. "I'm sorry, but I'm not just going to let you die. This is going to hurt, but it should save your scrawny little neck." She said. He looked up just in time to see out of the corner of his eyes her clenched fists come down on the back of his neck. The world faded, and with it, so did his pain.  
After doing her best to wrap the wound with cloth and slow the bleeding, Persephone lifted the heavy body of the boy she had just rendered unconscious. After a few seconds of struggled steps, she dropped him and decided to drag him the rest of the way. Just as she had expected, the horse stood right outside the boundaries of the dragon's territory, nervously eating green blades of grass.  
"Damn, brainless animals." She muttered as she struggled to pull the boy up onto the horse. After finally doing so, she joined him and put his other leg on the opposite side of the horse as his first. She let the boy lean back against her before bringing the horse to a slow trot. The setting sun reflected off of something on the boy's armor. An emblem. She took it in slowly, remembering Fanelia and her ways from her studies at Zaibach. They sent the princes to kill a dragon. Only then would the boys become king. They would practically outcast those who did not succeed. There was no telling what they would do to one who was mangled as badly as this boy. Persephone smiled bitterly for the people of Fanalia before glancing down at the pale face rested against her chest.  
"Poor fool."  
  
  



	5. Default Chapter Title

Leviathan's Daughter  
GoldenEagle  
  
Chapter Five  
Zanla gaped at the unconscious form that the two guards had brought in curiously. They seemed slightly annoyed, being ordered around by Persephone, a strange girl with such a low rank. As Zenla took the boy in, she noticed the emblem on the stranger's armor and her eyes grew wide in rage and fear.   
"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" She screeched at Persephone as the two guards laid the moaning boy down on Persephone's bed. The girl that was covered in crimson blood, none her own, held only a cold face as she looked at the one she had rescued. Her eyes were emotionless, her tone without personality.  
"Saving him."  
The servant's eyes grew wide before she laughed out coldly. "Saving him, my ass! The moment Queto gets here, the boy will be killed! Did you not think about the fact that you were carrying in a potentially dangerous land's king?!"  
"He's not the king. He failed to kill the dragon." Persephone muttered, trying to figure out what to do with the boy.  
"Bah!" The servant threw up her arms.   
Persephone recalled a meeting a few days ago. It had been long and tremendously boring, Dilandau even nodding off every once in a while, only catching himself when his head fell against Persephone's shoulder. They had been talking about new gadgets and trinkets of the Zaibach empire. Persephone slightly remembered something... A machine they had managed to get to work by will, as if moving your own limb...  
"Call in Carmile and Gurstan. Tell them I need their skill in medicine and technology." Zenla knew what was coming by the tone in Persephone's voice, by the way she looked at the bleeding, torn boy below her. Zanla growled before obliging, sensing the underlying power of the girl and fearing her. Persephone knew that Dilandau and Queto would be called back soon, cutting their search for her short.  
And when they returned, she knew she'd have to fight like hell to keep this prince of Fanelia from being destroyed.  
  
******  
Queto's sword zipped out, the tip of its blade pressing close to Persephone's neck. Her eyes lit up with that fire, that rage that was utterly inhuman. "You brought Fanelia's prince here?! I'll kill the bastard..."   
"You'll do nothing of the sort." Persephone growled out, the hate overflowing her. That strange pain raced through her back as the intensity of this emotion grew. "He is my responsibility now."  
"Put the sword down, Queto." The voice of a child said calmly.   
"But, Lord Dilandau-"  
Two guards stepped forward at the boy's command. Queto hesitated, his arms sagging and his sword lowering a bit. The fire still burnt in Persephone's eyes and she ran her finger tips along the edge of the half risen blade. Queto watched her coldly, her eyes aflame and the fire dancing in them, taking in the threat she was commencing in. The look she gave him was full of malice as she continued her fingers' travels along the blade, the metal cutting into her skin, the blood dripping to the floor, steaming unnoticed as it hit the cold surface. "He is mine." She purred out.   
"Let her have the prince as long as she pleases." Dilandau said professionally. "She has asked for little since being here."  
Queto snarled as he turned to the child. "You are letting your heart get in the way of our strength!"  
Dilandau's gaze hardened and Queto fell silent at the festering look in the boy's eyes. "I trust Persephone." He met the girl's now blue gaze, it thanking him silently. "Besides, she knows that if she ever gets in the way of my conquest, she shall be killed." With that, the boy left, Queto following behind him, and Persephone's mind reeling at the threat.  
  
********  
The boy's eyes slit open a crack, his body overflowing with fever, his every limb aching indescribably. He saw the blurry form above him, a smudge of white and red and gold. "Wh-Where am I?" He croaked through cracked lips and a dry throat.  
He was surprised to be met by a female voice, a coldness in it that whisked across him like an arctic breeze. "You are in my bed, in my chambers, on one of the many ships belonging to the Zaibach empire."  
The prince felt a little tinge of panic hit him. "I have to go home! My brother, my mother, I have to go back-"  
The feeling of two callused fingers on his lips interupted him and he closed his eyes, calming his breath. "Shh, child of Fanelia." A pause, and then she continued. "Drink."  
He felt a cold liquid enter his mouth and he drank it fully. He coughed and sputtered at first, his throat so clenched that it was hard to swallow. When he could drink no more, he closed his mouth. The girl pulled the cup away from his lips.  
"Who are you?" His voice was a little less ragged, a little less pained.  
There was a hesitant pause. He opened his eyes, his pupils dilating and focusing in better, improving his sight. He saw her face, beautiful, like an angel, give a slightly nervous look before replying. "I am Persephone. And what name do you go by, Prince."  
He licked his dry lips, calming his long, narrow face. "Folken Fanel."  
The girl seemed to find this amusing for some reason, smirking down at him. "Well, Folken. Perhaps you should go back to sleep. In the morning I will wake you and you shall join me for breakfast." The suggestion suited Folken fine, his eyes already drooping with sleep. "By the way..."  
He looked up at her, the face that had been fairly warm and soft before now a mask of cold sincerity.   
"If you leave this room without my permission, I will kill you nice and slowly." With that, she left him alone to his nightmares of dragons and blood and angelic demons of fire.  
  
Chapter Six  
The Fanelian prince woke quietly, his eyes opening slowly as the sun shone down on him from the glass ceiling above him. He stirred, but was hit with a million different forms of pain, and he let out a cold groan. He gripped the sheets at his side with both hands, trying to remember how he had gotten here... To the strange empire of Zaibach...  
It was slow in coming, but when it hit, it hit like a hurricane. The memory came of leaving Fanelia, his brother jumping in his arms to give him a good-bye hug, his mother looking at him with those sad eyes as if she knew... Knew the attack that had proceeded his failed attempt at slaying the dragon. He remembered the beast out of the corner of his eyes, the pain that stabbed through his arm. He felt the velvet like sheets below him and felt a little better, noticing both hands intact.  
Then the girl had come. He had lashed out, tried to hide his missing arm before she had rendered him unconscious. He could still remember the terrified look on her face as she looked at his bloodied shoulder, the appendage that should have been there gone. But even now he could feel the warmth on his right hand. A cold feeling rushed over him as he realized that there couldn't have really been anything that could have saved his arm. He brought his hand slowly to his face, his eyes closed in fear at what he would see.  
When he opened his eyes, his fingers dangling before his face, he let out a frightened cry, the early morning sunlight gleaming off the metal. "Oh, gods!" He yelped out as he stumbled off the bed, his arm clanging almost musically as it caught his fall.  
"Don't be so afraid, Folken. I gave you back what you lost. I gave you what you lacked." A cool, female voice said behind him. He spun around and stood, but fell, still too weak to hold himself up steadily.  
She was there, the girl who had saved him. The girl who he had first woken to. Her gleaming red and copper hair fell around her waist, thick and luscious. She had her hand on a curved hip, a cocky expression on her face, an eyebrow raised. She wore tight, tan suede pants which laced at the side, black feminine heeled black boots underneath. As a shirt, she wore a long-sleeved black turtleneck. A sword hung on her left thigh, ready to be pulled from its scabbard.  
She was an intimidating woman. Folken flashed back on her scaring away the dragon, by some miracle, and then back to her threat as he drifted to sleep. Not just intimidating. Persephone, as she called herself, was a dangerous woman. A deadly woman.  
Silence fell on the two of them and a flash of a look almost like nervousness crossed Persephone's face, but was quickly replaced with a nonchalant mask. "So, are you pleased?"  
Folken was confused, still too muddled with everything. "Pleased? With what?"  
Persephone looked annoyed for another nano-second before smiling warmly. Fakely. "Your arm."  
Folken looked down at the metallic curse, despair coursing through him. "What did you do to me?" He asked without looking her in the eye.  
Persephone took his question literally. "It wasn't really that hard. We just connected the main control centers to your nerve-"  
"You should have let me die." He said, hard tears streaking down his face. Persephone looked at him, shocked, a slightly hurt look on her face.  
The offended look was soon replaced by anger. "I save your pitiful life, give you back what you lost, and you wish to die?!" She yelled out. He looked up at her, surprised out of his self pity by her outburst. Her eyes were wide with an unrecognizable expression. She stepped forward and he shrunk back. "I risked my life to make sure my superiors didn't slice and dice your ass, even pulled a few strings to get your arm replaced. You ungrateful little brat!" She clenched her teeth, turning away suddenly and stalking towards the other side of the large room before she began to pace like a trapped cat.  
Folken looked down at the monstrosity that was now his arm before the self pity returned. "I can't go back. I can't go home."  
Persephone froze, looking at the boy so close to her age, maybe even a bit older. His head hung, her "gift" to him hanging heavily. She clenched her jaw tighter, trying to hide the familiar feeling of loss, the feeling she encountered when she looked back, trying to remember before the fire... She wanted to say she was sorry, but couldn't. Couldn't quite get it out.  
Instead she stood stiffly, looking over her shoulder through her crimson hair at the boy on the floor. A part of her sneered at this side of the boy. Weakling, she thought. You will never survive Zaibach. But as he stood slowly, the mechanic fist clenched at his side, his eyes met hers and she shuttered slightly, seeing a power in his gaze which mirrored her own.  
It wore her out, that look. It reminded her of the animal she had become. Lord Dornkirk and Lord Dilandau, her brotherly counterpart, had made sure to mold her into the beast she now was. Seeing that pained strength in another's eyes was almost too much for Persephone. Almost too heavy a burden for her soul. Her physical appearance was shaken, too, her shoulders slumping, her mouth drooping.  
"Perhaps you want breakfast." She muttered, not looking at him.  
"I'm not hungry." He stated plainly, unemotionally, walking to a window and staring outside at the passing scenery. Persephone immediately feared his strength.  
She didn't notice the tears that slithered down his pale face before he wiped them away  
  



	6. Default Chapter Title

Leviathan's Daughter  
GoldenEagle  
  
Author's note: I think I might have spelled guymelef wrong. If I did, please tell me so. Nicely. I'm a very sesnitive- *someone whispers in the background* "HEY! SHUT-UP! I'M TRYING TO DO AN AUTHOR'S NOTE HERE!!!"-person. *smile*  
  
Chapter Eight  
"You can't always attack, Dilandau." Persephone said, slightly annoyed as she watched the boy look at her pridefully, angrily. "You have to block and perry my blows as well. You're very good at striking other people, but horrible at protecting yourself."  
Dilandau pouted even more. "But I thought I was supposed to go for the kill-"  
"Yes, Dilandau. The kill. But only at the right time. It's all in the timing." Persephone muttered before taking a deep drink out of a water bottle she had set at the side of the training center. No one was about, which was good, because Dilandau tended to become over cocky and prideful when he had an audience.  
"Again." He said plainly, lifting his sword. A sly smile crossed his face and she knew he was up to something, but couldn't quite catch what it was. She raised an eyebrow before picking up her own blade and facing the eight year old, towering over him by a little less that a foot.   
She knew what Dilandau would do first off. She knew he would jump before they were done with the ritualistic invitation to a match, done with certain sword motions, so it was no surprise when he sprang forward in the middle of the traditional bow. Persephone blocked his moves easily, the boy sweating and grunting, yet still that smile on his face that was so large it was beyond sane. Persephone moved forward and tapped the back of his neck with the back of her sword, notifying him of the lack of defensive positioning he had. He growled and turned around, attacking her fiercely. Again she whisked by him, her blade tapping his left cheek, leaving a red mark as if he had been slapped.  
Dilandau sneered in anger at his opponent before the smile etched his face and he began to attack and make a fairly pathetic attempt to perry her blows. She knew he was about to go back to offensive position and was ready to block his blows when he spoke. "So, does Folken please you?" That strange smile on his face still held. He lunged forward, but Persephone blocked his blows. Yet he could see the slightest faulter in her pattern, the sudden loss of her grace.  
"What are you talking about?" She asked, giving him a weird look as she regained her stature, ready for his next blows.   
"Does he fuck well?" Dilandau said as he lunged forward.  
Persephone's concentration failed her, taken back by his question, unexpected. But he knew... He knew she and the prince weren't involved in the least way! Her perrying failed, his blade nipped her left thigh, leaving an inch deep wound. All hope of regaining her earlier technique was lost as Persephone stumbled, the boy she was so obligated to hurting her emotionally, making her angry.   
Fed by the sight of her blood, Dilandau became more violent. It was all she could do to block the sword's blade from killing her. "Dilandau," she panted, fear falling into her eyes. "Stop. Please."  
The fear in her eyes only pulled more blood-lust from him. Persephone stumbled backwards, falling, her sword skidding away from her. As she went down, Dilandau's blade sliced into the right sight of her abdomen. Persephone clenched the wound as she looked at the boy. She knew that she could kill him if she pulled out the dagger hid in her boot and flung it at him. He would be taken unaware. She reached for it and felt its cold blade. She hesitated, saw Dilandau raise his blade above her, to finish her. And although her salvation was within touch, she couldn't pull the dagger, much less kill him with it. She just stared at him, her eyes pleading. Stop. Her mind whispered the word out quietly, calmly. I won't hurt you.  
Dilandau brought the sword down, but it hit an inch from her left ear, cutting of a lock of her hair. He then resheathed his sword and laughed at her as she tried to stop trembling. "Oh, Perseph, you didn't think I'd actually hurt you?" He said, the child returning in his voice. "I would never hurt you!" He said as he threw his arms around her now sitting body. She couldn't react, her arms limp at her side, her wounds still bleeding and stinging. "Never hurt you unless I had to! I love you!" He said, his voice innocent. He drew back and smiled at her, that childish smile. "I've got to go to a meeting with Queto. See you later." He yelled as he ran off, leaving Persephone trembling and bleeding on the floor.  
Terrified.  
  
************  
Persephone was getting her wounds treated in the medical ward when one of the younger soldiers, perhaps her age, maybe even a year younger, ran into the room, panting, his eyes wide in panic. He met her eyes and she looked at him calmly, though her body went stiff. "Lady Per-Persephone!" The boy panted, trying to regain his breath.  
"Quiet, boy, and calm your breathing." She said plainly. "What's wrong?"  
"The prince!" He said, his lungs finally his again. "The one with which you are responsible for! He has stolen one of the guymelefs and escaped! Queto has already left to kill and hunt him down." Persephone was out the door by his last words, resheathing her sword as she walked, her deep wounds still open, her blood staining her clothes, and her eyes blazing with rage and fear for Folken.  
  
*************  
Folken ran, knowing he had lost Queto and his men long ago, along with his stolen guymelef. But still he ran, too filled with pain to think rationally. He wanted to be home... and yet he didn't. He wanted to see his family, but he didn't want them to see him and what he had become. The world was nothing to him anymore. All he wanted was home. Something edged into his mind and he stopped, his head lifted, the tears stopping for a moment as he sensed the presence. The cold mind, made up of broken pieces and manufactured lies. The hate at his betrayal shone clear through that soul, but a feeling contradicted that hate. One of total fear for his safety. His mind sensed her.  
Persephone.  
  
***********  
Rage boiled up in the red haired demon as she pushed on, looking for him. She hated him. She hated him. But even as this rage boiled in her, she was terrified that he was gone. Dead, perhaps, or even just vanished, returning to home. She was afraid that she had lost him. The burning hatred in her red, flaming eyes felt so strange next to the cool tears that fell down her cheeks. She stopped her horse quickly, a mind within her own suddenly detected. The pain of loss stood strong in it, irrationality ruling. Yet there was also the fear of loss in a different field. The want to get away while, at the same time, not wanting to lose her. Her mind sensed him.  
Folken.  
  
Chapter Nine  
Folken was attacked from behind, a heavy object barreling into him. He let out a low grunt as he hit the ground, already knowing who his attacker was. As soon as he was down, a strong hand dug harshly into his good arm, throwing him around to face his fate. It was Persephone, as he had known, her eyes on fire, her hair tangled and messy. Folken's mind faintly flickered quizzically over the blood that soaked her shirt and pants.  
"How dare you! How dare you! I should kill you for what you've done!" She screamed at him, pulling out her sword. It came down, the tip stopping at the first touch of his skin on his neck. He just looked up at her, trying to decide whether he should be afraid, ashamed, or relieved. Afraid of what she might do, ashamed of what he had done, or relieved that it would be her that took his life. She would at least grant him a quick death. A merciful end. But as he watched, he was broken from his own thoughts, his own daze of insanity. Crystal tears fell from her as she still held the sword to his throat. "How dare you?!" How dare y-" She choked on her own sobs, blinking to clear her sight. "I would have let you go." She whispered, the fire in her gaze gone, tears pooling at the bottom of her deep, blue eyes. "If you would have asked, I would have let you go." With this she pulled away, rising to her knees and backing away from him, her blade dropping to the ground.  
Folken rose quietly himself, looking at her lowered head, trying to see her face through the thick red hair which shielded it. Her shoulders still shook, giving away the sobs she continued to produce. Her hands drooped at her side, lifeless. Folken was mesmerized as he watched her falling apart, her self deception breaking. He knew it would return, as it always did, but he also knew that, for the moment, it was gone. Right now, Persephone was not Dilandau's Persephone, or even Dornkirk's. She was just Persephone.  
He took a light step forward and touched her shoulder, standing at arm's length from her. She weakly hit at him, her fists pounding against his chest, leaving bruises. He let her pound, let her get it out. She was still doing this when he spoke, his voice changing tones with each impact of her hands. "A trader came in to the ship today. He brought news of Fanelia. My mother is dead." Folken said quietly. Persephone's movements froze, her fists resting on his chest. She lifted her gaze up, blue and clear and unclouded by bitterness for the moment, and her tears slowed to a steady stream instead of a flood. But he knew the tears were for him. She cried for him when he could no longer do so for himself. She pushed her head against his chest silently, her arms curled up and pulled against her. It took all Folken's strength to break through this barrier as he lifted his arms around her. Once the deed was done, he pulled her harder against him, letting his sobs out. They stood there for only moments and eternity alike, crying as the Mystic Moon and her companion hung lazily above them.  
  
  



	7. Default Chapter Title

Leviathan's Daughter  
GoldenEagle  
  
Author's note: You guys have no idea how exhausted I am! And I still have homework! Eck! Anyways, hope you like the story.  
  
Chapter Ten  
"You know the punishment he should receive." Queto barked back at her, enraged that she was making her point, getting her way, again.  
"Yes, Lord Queto." She said solemnly and without emotion. "But you also remember that I am to take full responsibility for the boy. This would be a good time for me to do so, sir." She looked straight ahead as he circled her, standing straight as any soldier would getting a lecture.  
Queto felt like punching something. The boy should be killed. Tortured for going up against Zaibach. But she was right and he could do nothing to Folken. He sure as Hell couldn't kill Persephone, knowing full well what Lord Dornkirk would do to him... He shuttered at the thought. He had learned to hate Persephone's power of reasoning over the last few months. He hated her for being so damn smart and pulling herself up above his own rank. Above the law.   
"Lady Persephone, you will take responsibility for the boy." Dilandau's eyes were strict. Relentless. "Give her a view of the simplicity of punishment." The guard's eyes widened at as they realized what he was saying.  
"But, sir-"  
"Do as you are told, or I will have your head on a stake, you hear?" He bellowed. The man bowed before stepping forward and bounding Persephone's wrists. Queto smiled and looked into Persephone's eyes, wanting to see surprise or anger. But all he saw was a simple contentment. As if she really had won the game instead of him. He growled as she left the room. She was untouchable!  
  
************  
Folken paced the room, his legs and feet aching, along with his jaw, from the monotony of his movements. He had been this way for the last three hours, waiting for her to return. For him to hear is judgment. But when she had not, he had grown restless, knowing that something was up. It was into late shadows of the night when the door to her room finally opened. He paused and looked up at her form silhouetted in the doorway. Immediately he knew something was wrong by her slumped figure and her shaking frame. "Persephone-"  
"Ca-Call Zenla." She stuttered, interrupting him. "Please. Hurry!" Her voice was urgent and he could tell she was on the brink of pained tears. He reached forward and picked up a communication unit, calling the servant to Persephone's room.  
Persephone purposely fell forward into her velvet bed, immediately grabbing a pillow to cry out in. Her body went stiff as the waves of pain coursed through her. "Persephone?" Folken's voice was breathless, terrified at what was causing her to act so tortured.  
"My Lady! Oh, gods, when I heard what they did to you I almost fainted! It was cruel of them. Such a child as yourself should not grow through the things that make grown men cry out." Zenla rushed forward, calling the lights on as she did so, the room going from a startling black to an industrial white.  
When Folken saw what had been done, his hands clenched tightly, the metal talons on his one had screeching, his fingernails on his original hand drawing blood. Her back was bloodied and torn, horrible crimson marks flashing across her pale skin. The servant looked up at him, reading the horror and hate on his face immediately, his jaw clenched, his eyes glass. "Please, sir, get me some rags and warm water. Quickly!" The small lady said. Folken stood frozen in his place for a few seconds, still stuck in one place by the sight of her wounds, before he obeyed, moving quickly and doing as he was told. When he returned with the water and rags, the old woman spoke again. "Now, go to my bag. In there will be a needle and some tough, plastic like string. Bring me some of that. Oh, and find some hard liquor in the room, boy. Have her drink some of that. I have nothing to take the pain away for when I stitch her up."  
Folken felt sick as he carried out her wishes, his mind stumbling too often to rationalize what was going on and why. All he knew was that she was hurt. Hurt so bad that she couldn't even help herself. Folken's goddess of intimidation and strength was laying in shambles, crying out as Zenla cleaned her wounds. Folken laid down the things he had been asked to bring and knelt on his knees by her bed.   
Persephone turned her head so she could look at him. She smiled slightly, her face flickering with pain even as she did so. She couldn't say anything, her jaws were clenched too tight. She was trying to tell him it was okay. He didn't believe her. He gripped her hand and she held it tightly, her fingernails sinking into his skin as she whimpered out. Her eyes closed, her mind pushed far from the room by her agony.  
"What did they do to her?" Folken asked, forcing himself to look over her back, knowing it was his fault.  
Zenla looked at him for a moment, pausing from her cleaning of Persephone's back, before she spoke grimly and quietly. "They call it the 'Simplicity of Punishment'. Some of the soldiers of Zaibach have been punished by it. They take a whip and tie in pieces of broken glass and rocks and metal. They use that to whip the soldier's back bloody. Then they pour salt into it, and once the person's pain has faded from the first session, they pour in more salt. They do this till you pass out. I must clean the wound well, make sure there is no glass in it or mounds of salt to avoid infection." Zenla said quietly. "It is very painful. It is a punishment for the strong. It would kill those who are too weak."  
Folken was shaking so badly that the servant had to speak her request three times before he heard her. "Hand me the needle and thread and give her some of the alcohol. This is the worst of the process." Folken did as he was told and he felt as if someone were pouring salt into his own open wounds with each and every scream that echoed from Persephone's lips.  
  
**************  
Zenla had long ago left, leaving the two behind her, Persephone's hand still wrapped tightly around Folken's, his metal claw holding him up. They had long ago fallen asleep, both exhausted from the day's pains. The first rays of dawn were making their way across a desolate, desert land when Folken felt a stirring next to him. He awoke, finding blue eyes staring back at him only a few inches away. They stayed that way for a few minutes before Persephone spoke. "Come." She slowly pushed herself up, pulling Folken's hand along with her. He moved slowly, his body stiff from the position he had been laying in, but she also went slow, her back still so intense with pain that it hurt to breath.  
"Where are we going?" He asked softly, the early morning light beckoning for quiet.  
"Anywhere." She murmured, not releasing his hold. They walked silently into the empty hallway outside, Persephone's night gown open in the back, revealing her torn back. But among her recent wounds, Folken noticed white patches. Scars that stood out on her delicate frame. Its color reminded him of the one on her cheek, in the shape of a feather.  
"What happened to your back? I mean, before... Last night." She stopped walking and turned, her eyes hesitant, her face nervous.  
"Come." She muttered. "We will talk about it when we get there."  
"Get where?"  
Persephone pulled him into another hallway before going to its end and punching in the code to open a locked door. The door slid open noiselessly and she pulled him inside. In the first blue shades of dawn, he could barely make out a small and sleeping form. He blinked once, twice, before he let go of Persephone's hand. She walked over to the sleeping form and lay down next to him, resting her head on his chest. The child stirred and smiled under her touch pleasantly, drawing near to her warmth.  
"Why are we here?" Folken hissed out, his mind coming up with horrible punishments which could be given for sneaking around in Lord Dilandau's room while he was asleep.  
"Don't be afraid, Folken. He wakes at a certain time, every morning, like a machine. Very little can wake him up before schedule." Persephone muttered, letting herself get lulled into a peaceful daze by the gentle heartbeats of Dilandau. "Sometimes I feel as if he calls out to me, and I come and just lay here until the sun comes up, listening to him breath."  
Folken stood, frozen, for a few seconds, before he moved over to a chair not far from the bed. Another few seconds of silence dwelled before Persephone spoke, waking herself from the sounds of Dilandau's life. "There was a fire. When I was very young. That is how I got the scars. I remember a horrible nightmare, and when I woke, my world was on fire." Persephone muttered. "Something happened that night I... I just don't know what. My parents died. My world... My home evaporated into thin air." She snuggled deeper into Dilandau's chest and he shifted contentedly beneath her.  
Folken was unsure of what to say, but Persephone was not done yet. "He's the first family I've had since the fire." She said and he slowly realized that she was speaking of Dilandau. He stared at the boy in her arms quietly and thoughtfully. Another pause went by before Persephone spoke again. "Have you ever had that feeling, that knowing of something, that you can tell it's going to happen before it actually does?"  
Folken thought about it for a second before he spoke, sincerely. "No. My mother did, though. She was very good at seeing the things that were going to be." At mention of his mother, he felt a strange pang of loss and emptiness.  
"Folken," Persephone said, seriously, as if she were speaking an undeniable truth. He met her eyes in the dim light. "Dilandau will kill me." It was simply said, like a well known fact. Folken felt like he had been slapped across the face.  
"What?" He asked, his voice rising a bit.  
"I said, Dilandau will kill me. I know he will. I can feel it. Maybe not today or within the next year, but in the end, it will be him." She muttered.  
"Then why don't you leave?!" Persephone gave Folken a hard look at his raised voice, a slightly annoyed look as she looked back down on the child sleeping in her arms.   
"For the same reason a person may stay in their homes even as they know a flood is coming to wipe them away." She said, her eyes still on Dilandau. "I have put my heart in him. He is my home."  
  
*************  
They had left Dilandau's room quietly, each slipping off to their own rooms. When Persephone reached hers, she found a group of Zaibach soldiers waiting for her. One stepped forward, a scroll in his hand. "Persephone?" He asked gruffly.  
"Yes?"  
"Lord Dornkirk requests you come see him immediately for training. We already have your things ready. Come with me, Lady Persephone. We are to leave right away." And they did so. She had no time to say good bye to either Dilandau or Folken, which was good, any ways. She was terrible at good-byes.  
  



	8. Default Chapter Title

Leviathan's Daughter  
GoldenEagle  
  
Author's Note: Since I haven't seen the entire series yet, I will exclude the two cat girls from any part of my story. Atleast, those are my thoughts so far on the matter. By the way, I met a real pyromaniac the other night. I have to say, it was great! His very personality was mesmorizing. I could go into more detail, talk of some weird, demented boy, but, that's a whole story in itself. I think this is a sign that I'm becoming too close with my Dilandau charector.  
  
Chapter Eleven  
  
A sweet, wakening breeze blew over an awakening wilderness. The mountains rose above millions of treetops, reaching for the rising sun. And above this vision of Nature and her children floated a dark fortress, hiding among the depleting shadows of night. It had been six long years since Gaea had first felt the touch of the one from the Mystic Moon and five since that person had been seen outside the Zaibach's main training facility. She was all but forgotten, pushed into the recesses of anyone's mind who had met her. She was a ghost. Nothing but a vision of some forgotten dream. Life had gone on without her. Zaibach had grown.  
Dilandau had grown, too. The body of the child he once was had been traded for an older boy. That wild insanity had enveloped his being, his eyes always holding a bit of that instability within him. It was so on this day, his legs bringing him back and forth across the metal deck of his ship. He sneered. Or, to put it better, Folken's ship. The teen still resented the older boy for rising above him. 'He should have left long ago,' Dilandau thought as he still paced. 'Besides, I was to be the Chosen! I was supposed to be the best in the empire! Instead, they gave the position to a boy from a soon-to-be enemy country. The boy isn't even fully human, him and that stupid arm!' Dilandau punched the metal wall, which only made him more enraged as the pain bolted up his arm, causing him to hold it to his chest lightly. Yet, even as he did so, a strange cackle cracked his lips. There was no reason for its being there except for the insanity that had spurred it.  
He was restless, having nothing to do and all the other soldiers out in the halls, but his demented laughter was interupted as the door to this main deck swooshed open. Two tall, heavily armored men stepped into the room, large, curved swords at their sides. Due to his loss of the little momentary sanity he had, Dilandau sneered at the armed guards in strange garb. "Who the Hell are you?!" He stepped forward and rushed at them, ready to show them what Dilandau was quite well known for. Two sharp blades were instantly at his throat, and he reacted much as a frightened child much, his lips quivering, his mind wanting to call out pathetically for help. The soldiers' faces were stern, even angry. And then two small, callused hands curved around one of the guards' shoulders, voicelessly ordering them to step back. As he finally recognized the mastering figure which had stepped forward, the tears that had welled up in Dilandau's eyes in terror now became tears of joy and now remembered loneliness, spurred by his unstable personality. He choked on his words as the person drew closer to him. Finally he let them out with a smile that was so uncharacteristic for the boy and embraced the visitor.  
"Sister!"  
  
*************  
"But, sir! Dilandau demanded that no one interrupt him!" One of the soldiers shouted out, desperately, afraid for his own life. He knew well enough what Dilandau might do to him if he was not completely obedient, even if this was regarding the one person on the ship with an higher order than him.  
Folken merely glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes as he passed, a slightly annoyed look on his face. He turned his attention forward again, punching in the code to access Dilandau's room as he tried to take full control of the anger directed at the boy for not seeing to business. In Folken's eyes, Dilandau was still the child he had been left with five years ago to hover over and take care of. The boy was still as much of a nuisance as he had been then. But Folken had learned patience and indifference. He held no true feelings against the teenager, only a silent acceptance of the boy who was going to stay on this ship, whether he liked it or not. And even then, he held a slight, untouched on emotion of loyalty to the boy. Like an out of state nephew...  
"But, sir-" Another guard stuttered as the door started to slide open. "He's with a girl." The soldier's voice came too late. He grimaced before he took in the scene even as the door closed behind his Lord, his ideas of what Dilandau was possibly doing with the woman amazingly distorted...  
  
**************  
Folken's heart fluttered and seemed to stop with a sudden jerk as he saw the girl sitting on the bed before him. The masquerade of coldness that had hidden his face perfectly for the last few years shattered instantly, his jaw dropping, his eyes going wide. He gasped and a violent shutter ran threw him even as he cursed himself for acting like the fifteen year old he had once been. Yet still he quivered, his lips shaking on their own accord. His physical condition became even worse as her eyes floated up and met his. Folken's legs almost gave out beneath him, and he suddenly realized he hadn't been breathing.  
"Persephone." He thanked whatever gods that may be watching over him for atleast granting him this one bit of strength, his voice his only strong, constant position.  
She was quiet for a second, her mouth drooped at the edges, an almost completely innocent and pained look in her eyes. "Folken, I-" She stopped, looking down at the teenager's head, resting in her lap. "I didn't think you would have stayed." Her voice was barely heard over Folken's own heartbeats.  
As Folken gathered his emotions and forced them off his face, even stopping his trembling, he looked her over. A small frown creased his face as he looked at her troubling, physical changes. She had grown a lot in the past five years. Her body was taller, her attributes even more flattering than before. Dilandau's head was resting in her lap, her legs pulled beneath her, and her hands playing with his hair. A strange contented and peaceful smile was on his sleeping face. Yet, what Folken's own mind had called an angel was now terrifyingly opposite.  
Her form was fitted with tight, black leather. The top came up like turtleneck, a half circle cut on her chest, revealing her cleavage. Folken almost blushed like a schoolboy as his eyes hovered too long on the obstacle. He regained his wits and continued his careful scrutiny. He noticed that she had obtained more scars. Some were obviously caused by blades, but some were other burns. And as he took in her face more carefully, he froze. There were the slightest signs of wrinkling around her eyes and mouth. Stress marks, he knew, which had made her older than she really was. Her once long and full, curly red hair was cut right at her ears, making it look messy and somewhat pathetic. Though she kept her eyes from his, he could still detect the gleam of something much like an embedded hatred in them. Not for him, but for something else entirely. It was this that stabbed at him the most.  
"So, Persephone." He said, letting out a cough. "How long will you be visiting my ship?"  
She looked up and, beyond that rage and hurt that was in her eyes, causing the hatred he had taken in so heavily, was a shimmer of hope and... His mind stumbled over the thought. Possibly, love? No, no. He was reading too much into her gaze. He hit himself mentally for his daydreaming before being interupted from his internal battle by her cold, ragged, and deeper voice. A voice he realized, with a sudden start, that had grown from the girl's of before to a woman's. "I'll be staying here for a while. Lord Dornkirk has sent me here to help with the upcoming battles."  
  
Chapter Twelve  
  
Persephone had left Dilandau asleep in his room and Folken to get the official arrangements of her stay straight from Lord Dornkirk's transmission. She felt lost when she had been left alone in the room that had once been hers. Everything seemed the same, besides a few updated technology installments. Persephone hadn't bothered in bringing her own things, knowing that Lord Dornkirk would provide all he believed she would need. She sighed. Weariness was already drifting into her demeanor and she often had to remind herself to bring her shoulders up from their slump. She finally resolved to make herself more comfortable, pulling off the one-piece suit she wore, leaving her in her underwear, the cool atmosphere pleasing her. She was content in this hidden freedom, flopping down on her velvet bed.  
She looked up at the ceiling, finally having a chance to process everything that had happened today. Dilandau was even more careless than she remembered, but she felt a certain joy at the boy's reaction to her. So he hadn't forgotten. Her fears were relieved. He still held that connection to her inside of him. She could still relish in his heart beat, his breathing, his warmth... This made her happy. But at the first thought of Folken, all her contentment ceased.  
Terrible waves of emotion formed over her. He had stayed... He had stayed... Goddamn him! The enraged words in her mind did not help spur on her anger as she had hoped. Instead it had left her unstable and on the verge of tears. It was her fault that he had stayed, her fault that he had even been introduced to the Zaibach empire. Now that she knew what was at the root of her once so easily accepted new kingdom, she hated and feared everything to do with it. Though she hated Zaibach, she loved Dilandau dearly. And she lov- Her thoughts halted before her wandering mind could completely register those feelings, guarding her from that strange emotion. No, the correct way to put it was that she did not hate Folken. He did not deserve the fate that would become all Zaibach's servants. A fate which had already become her own.  
She also sneered at what image he had taken, no doubtedly to show his humility to the empire. He had grown tall, his hair shifting from a light gray to a deceptive blue hue. His smoky eyes had not changed, really, but they did appear to shift between the original color to a darker shade. He was a handsome man now, not a cute teen. And yet he held the obvious influence of Zaibach. The tattoos on his face, the blue tear and coloring at the edges of his eyes... She knew it was a sign of his shame from coming from another kingdom. The cape and attire he wore, along with the two dangling gold hoops in his ears gave him the appearance of a court jester. Persephone closed her eyes in pain and hate. He should deserve a crown, with a million loyal subjects. Not this mockery. Not this disgrace. She bit her lip, her emotions rendering her unstable. God, why did it hurt so much? Why did she have to care? She had long ago promised... Not to draw close to anyone. The ways of her heart were deceptive. It hadn't hurt this bad in the beginning, but now that there was no way out of her feelings, it burnt down on her soul like magma.  
Her heavy thoughts were rudely interupted by a knocking at her door. She sat up quickly and glanced over at the closed entrance. "Come in."  
Folken stepped into the dimly lit room. The lighting was a strange comfort to his restless mind, a reminder of the way Persephone preferred her environment. Folken looked at his hands momentarily as he contemplated over how to talk to her. "Lord Persephone," He said finally. "I-"  
His voice choked as he saw her, standing there with little on. He averted his gaze immediately, embarrassment and guilt hitting him with unusual force. He felt heat rise into his face and hoped he wasn't blushing.  
Persephone realized her appearance as he saw it too late. Despite her own growing embarrassment, a slight smile tugged at her lips as she saw him blush as he stared at the floor and shuffled his feet. She reached for a robe and pulled it over her before she spoke.   
"I apologize, Lord Folken." The way she said Lord told him that she found it ridiculous between them and that he should avoid calling her by that title. He glanced up and let out a sigh of relief as he saw her covered in a robe. He groaned inwardly as he saw the ghost of an amused smile on her lips, obvious proof that she had noticed the reddening of his cheeks. "Again, I wish to convey my regrets at this uncomfortable situation." Suddenly the smile was gone, a look of unbelievable shame on her face, along with grief, as she avoided his gaze. "I have not had a lot of... privacy... among Zaibach."  
Folken was too afraid to read between the lines in her words. All he felt was a sudden rage and pain at the thought of what she might mean. He repressed a shutter at the thought of her being physically abused, of her being handled. He clenched his jaw and pushed away the overwhelming thoughts.  
When Persephone looked back up, she noticed a look of guilt and concern on his face. She was terrified of going into fuller detail of what her words had meant, so she spoke quickly, trying to change the subject. "So, Folken, what have you come here to speak with me about?"  
He looked into her eyes from where he stood, that doubt of whether or not he should push for anymore talk about the earlier subject still hovering over him. She felt odd with his gaze so intense on her, even though he stood across the room. Finally he spoke, calmly. "You should get dressed. You have a meeting to discuss our upcoming victory over Mirama's capital." With that he turned and left her alone, grateful and disappointed that he was no longer around her.  
  
Author's Note: I'm not sure if I will go into the whole "abuse" isue. If you think I should, give out a shout. I've purpousfully fucked up Perseph to explain why she is who she is, and I'm wondering if the abuse issue would be too much. Anyways, please give me your opinions!  
  
  
  



	9. Default Chapter Title

Leviathan's Daughter  
GoldenEagle  
  
Author's Note: I can't get FF.net to take down my italicizing, so when I italicize a thought, it will be like 'this'. Just pay careful attention to that. This chapter has some *ahem* adult content in it. I'm not talking about wild sex or anything, just some references to some stuff. So, be aware that I warned you.   
  
Chapter Thirteen  
  
It was silent in Folken's room as he and Persephone ate breakfast. They were both trying to put off the subject at hand. Persephone had gone to the meeting two nights before. There would be a battle at Mirama's capital, Corinth. Dilandau and the soldiers under him were to attack in their guymelefs. Folken was to stay in the fortress and do the planning and quick decision making. And Persephone was to go out on the battle field, with no guymelef. They all had to travel by foot, or guymelef, using only the ground to move upon. Corinth could not find out about their attack until it was upon them. This meant that the fortress would stay anchored here and no one would venture into the skies.  
  
Persephone knew Folken was edgy at the thought of her going out with only a sword when the real fight depended on the force of metal giants. He would be so for any of the men under him. 'But I'm not like the others.' Persephone thought quietly as she watched him shuffle his food around on his plate to make it look as if he had eaten. He wouldn't look up unless she spoke, and even then it was a distracted look. 'Folken,' she pushed her emotions towards him. 'Don't you feel my confidence, my strength, my courage? Folken, I'm more than what you think I am. Why else did you think Lord Dornkirk wanted me? There's a power inside of me, Folken. I'm not afraid. You shouldn't be, either.' Her soul spoke these words as she looked up through her short hair with sympathetic eyes.  
  
She was discouraged that she couldn't help his confidence in her without worrying him more. Yet, unknown to her, he had felt her waves of strength and self-assurance. It's what finally made him look up to her on his own accord to speak. "If I tell you to back out, you back out. You hear me, Persephone? My rank is above yours, and that's an order. I have a large amount of faith in Lord Dornkirk, but I can't help but question his decision in this matter. You will be the most vulnerable, and if there is too large an amount of trouble, I want you out. You understand?" Folken's voice had fallen into calling out orders as a General would, and for some reason this made Persephone feel better.  
  
A sad smile shone behind her hair, beyond the point that Folken could see it. 'I'm not the most vulnerable. Don't worry so much. Quit playing these games of strength and indifference. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon.'  
  
Folken sensed her mind tugging at his. He couldn't quite catch exactly what her thoughts were, but he did catch the general idea: 'Don't worry.' He sighed. "I have full faith in you, Persephone." He said and looked up at her. She looked relieved that he had said the words.  
  
"Thank you, Folken. Thank you for trusting me." She replied, standing as a computer made everyone aware that it was time to leave. Folken did the same, but a little too quickly, a little too suddenly.  
  
'Oh, gods.' He thought as he saw her turn to go. 'What if she gets killed? What if she's captured? What if-'  
  
Persephone looked over her shoulder and smiled. He realized that she had somehow read him, knowing his exact thoughts. "Don't worry, Folken. I'll come back in one piece. I promise." With that, she left, leaving him clenching the edge of the table he was at and scratching gashes into the woods with the talons on his right hand.  
  
*************  
  
It was getting dark by the time the traveling party stopped to camp for the night. Persephone rode on Dilandau's guymelef's shoulder, relishing in the cool, Autumn crispness. As they slowed to a stop, Dilandau's guymelef knelt down and she jumped off easily. They were so close to the city that she could hear and smell the happenings. There was laughter and celebration in the air. Ignoring everyone else's hurried attempt to secure their camp, Persephone ran up a hill which blocked her view of the city. When she reached the top, she froze in awed contemplation of its beauty.   
  
It wasn't really that large, but its building were built high and made out of a shimmering, crystal like material. Bonfires burned all over the city as people danced and enjoyed themselves. Persephone was a little taken back when she realized that there was a festival taking place. 'All these people,' she thought quietly. 'These children and men and women and families... We'll be attacking them. Ruining so many lives-' but she interupted her own thoughts. 'No, it's not my fault! If they just surrender, then everything will be okay. Not many will have to die.'  
  
"Isn't it magnificent?" Dilandau squealed behind her. His eyes had gone wide, his smile splitting his face. She tried to hide the distaste that came to her at that look. "Imagine," he muttered out, his eyes glazing over as he fell into his own, twisted mind. "All of it. Gone. The people, the blood... the fire!" He cackled after this and Persephone could take it no longer. She stood and passed him by, still laughing in the distant city's glow.  
  
She remembered back on past thoughts, when he was only a child. He doesn't want war. He wants massacre.  
  
Chapter Fourteen  
  
Persephone couldn't sleep. Instead she stared up at the dark, starry sky. She shifted her gaze to the two moons hanging overhead. Earth. It was strange, thinking back to when she had lived on that lush planet. And now...? Was Gaea her true home? Home is where the heart is. The thought made her smile. Yes, where the heart is. Gaea was her home, afterall.  
  
A cold breeze made her shiver in the open air. The shutter continued after the breeze had left and she realized it was from emotion. She was terrified. Horrified by what would happen the next day. She felt sick, like she was doing something that put her against herself. She felt like she had drunken poison with a light mood. This battle... She could feel it, already hear the screams.  
  
And then everything reared up at her, like a striking snake, too fast. Flames engulfed her and she saw angels falling, twisting, dead... 'My fault! It's my fault! I should have been there, to protect-' she stopped herself, her mind twisting on its own accord, speaking from a different perspective. But the words came, a ghostly whisper as she saw the flames, saw the death, saw something she didn't understand.   
  
"Atlantis... Destroyers of Atlantis..." the words whispered out.  
  
"No! No! I tried to stop them! I tried to protect! It was my position, my responsibility, my fault!" She screamed voicelessly. "I tried!" She sobbed. "I tried!"  
  
"Punishment... Consequences." The words flashed through her mind and she cried out as the memories came back. Her parents' deaths, her rejected life, her pain and love and sorrow for Folken and Dilandau. "Someone from the line must pay for their ancestors' sins..." Then the things she had refused to acknowledge, the memories locked away in her, never to be looked back on, flashed before her. The experimentation, the training, the shame...   
  
"No, please! Don't make me remember! Please!" She screamed out in a voice that was beyond sobs as the visions resurfaced. The touches, the hands over her mouth, the hatred at them for destroying all she had been, for breaking her. She remembered the way they looked as her body shut down, trying to push away their violent passion. "Someone help me." She whimpered, her memories so real that she could still feel their bodies on top of her own. "Please..." her voice was a whisper as she started to fade away. "Folken..." It was her last word, but it brought her comfort. It brought her strength.  
  
Persephone awoke suddenly, sweat and tears coursing down her face. She was shaking so fiercely that she couldn't even move. Finally, after a few minutes, she grabbed hold of her wits. She wrapped her arms around her legs and hugged them tight to her chest as she sobbed, much as a child would. She was cursed. It was what the dream had laid upon her. Doomed to a life without joy, without love-  
  
*Folken*  
  
Her thoughts contradicted themselves. 'Oh, God,' she thought quietly as a small, childish wail escaped her lips, unheard by her sleeping comrades. 'What- Please- Help me, oh, God, help me!'  
  
  
Author's Note: You guys have to stick around for the next part! I'm like dancing around cause I'm so excited about writing it! For some reason I think the depressing battle will be fun... Hmm... Anyways, stick around! More's coming soon.  
  
  



	10. Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen  
The sun was setting and the soldiers of Zaibach were positioning themselves for the attack. Dilandau was licking his lips with pleasure at the images which filled his head. Because of his insanity, he could not even begin to detect the mood which hung over Persephone. Though he could not, the rest of the soldiers did. They had seen her go throughout the day withdrawn and snappish. They all knew to keep away from her during the battle. There was a bit of her own insanity in her gaze that day, a vengeful, tortured, hateful expression.  
Persephone was distracted, her very attitude emanating her bitchy mood. She was also tired, weary. She had dark circles under her eyes and her actions of indifference and lack of concern was odd. "Persephone, do you hear me?" A calm and cool voice crackled in her ear. Persephone started for a second before she reached her hand up gently to the small speaker in her ear. It crackled a bit more before the line smoothed out.  
Persephone forced a bit of the tension out of her limbs as she spoke. "Loud and clear. How about you? Having fun up there in your confined little fortress?" She asked, her voice pushing between teasing and resentment.  
Folken chuckled a little. "Yeah, but I'd rather be out there in the open air."  
"Perhaps we could go out sometime, get out of that dingy old ship. Just you and me, get away from Zaibach for a couple of days." Persephone said, her attitude finally lightening as she conversed in small talk with him.  
"Perhaps." But his voice sounded distracted and troubled and she suddenly remembered what exactly was going on. Her soul heavied again as he spoke. "Remember what I said, Persephone. I call you out, you better be running for the hills. Got that?"  
She nodded, despite the fact that he couldn't see her. "Yes, Lord Folken."  
"And, Persephone?"  
"Yes, Folken?" Persephone answered wearily as she rubbed her temples.  
"You better keep the promise that was given to me."  
  
*************  
Later on, when Persephone looked back on the battle, she would fully take into thought the way things went about. Zaibach attacked quickly, cloaked by invisibility. She was on foot and she sprinted to keep up with the machines' large strides. There were a few soldiers on foot, mostly younger ones, not much older than twelve or thirteen. At one of the invisible guymelef's attacks, a small wave of pandemonium rippled through the streets of Corinth. People took in the first crumpling building, then their shredded gates as if it were a nightmare, taking a few seconds before they realized the seriousness of the situation. Their soldiers were out almost immediately and Persephone was faintly surprised by the power and advancement of their guymelefs.   
She hit the first wave of fighting much quicker than she thought, a large man in bounded armor bringing his sword over his head and letting out a cry. "Aarrgh!" Persephone answered his cry and with two calculated swipes of her curved sword, he was gutted. At the first sight of death, she lost all control, the remembrance brought on the night before coming back in an overpowering wave.  
She hit another soldier, then another, and another, her teeth bared, and then the tears came angrily and smudged with dirt. The next guard she hit didn't even see her coming. Her blade plowed through his back, killing him instantly. *Strapped down, their eyes on her, their lips on her...* "Fuck you!" She screamed as she pulled the sword from the man's back and brought it down again, oblivious to the fact that he was already dead. *Their hands, on her chest, between her legs, mocking her...* "Fucking... Bastards..." She was still tearing into the same corpse, devastating it so that it was barely recognizable as human. A man charged her from the back and she turned, slicing up, into his groin. *Forcing themselves on her violently, one after another, pain smashing through her, then leaving her there, naked, crying, screaming...* "Die, you bastard." She whispered through bitter tears, making one final, killing sweep.  
"Persephone? Persephone?! Can you hear me?" The voice in her ear finally registered, her sword blade dropping and hitting the ground, her chest shaking with sobs. No one around her was still alive. The fight had moved on, and an indefinable amount of mutilated corpses lay in pieces around her feet. She had no idea how long she had been there, no idea what so ever. "Persephone?! Gods, Persephone, answer me!" The choking voice awoke her again and she opened her mouth, choking on her own words a few times, her mouth gaping open a bit, before she could finally answer.  
"Fol-Folken?" Her voice was small, weak, broken.   
"Thank the gods!" The voice exclaimed before going forward, a new rage in his voice. "Where the hell have you been?! I've been telling you to retreat for the last half hour! Dilandau and his guymelefs are on their way out now. They tried to contact you... They thought you were dead. I thought you were dead." His voice had transformed from one of anger and disapproval to a desperate, concerned whisper. "Are you all right, Perseph?"  
"Yeah, I just..." Her voice faded and her shoulders fells. She could smell the tremendous amount of blood on herself. She was too tired to think, too tired to finish her thoughts.  
"Get out of there, Persephone. Come back to me." Folken said quietly, noticing the defeat in her voice.  
Tears welled in her eyes. "O- Okay, Folken." She stuttered before stepping over the remains around her, slightly aware of the fact that most of the corpses at her feet were because of her.  
  
Chapter Sixteen  
Persephone was on her way out of the city when the attack hit the Zaibach forces. To her left, about a mile away, a dazzling flash of white light burst through the pressing darkness. It arched in the air and made its way across the sky. Her eyes followed it, awed by the beauty of it. She was reminded of fireworks on the Fourth of July...  
The streak of light hit a hillside in the direction she was heading. She froze in a silent horror as she saw an enormous explosion and, in that light, burning Zaibach guymelefs. She went stiff almost immediately, her eyes going wide. 'Persephone!' The scream in her mind echoed with pain and childish terror. She clenched her teeth. Dilandau. Oh, God, she couldn't handle this. Immediately Persephone was on her feet, running in the opposite direction, heading towards where she had seen the missile launched...  
  
*********  
"Lord Folken! We've been attacked!" One of the younger youths yelled out as his fellow warriors struggled to reach any survivors in the burning and melting guymelefs. "Lord Dilandau is down, sir. He's alive, but unconscious."  
"Get out of there!" Folken yelled in exasperation as he heard another explosion in the background.  
"But, sir... You told us to wait for Lord Persephone."  
Folken's blood went cold. "She's not there yet?" He asked, a slight bit of amazement and despair in his voice.  
"Why, no sir." The boy replied. "We haven't even heard from her yet."  
Folken stood from his seated place in front of data charts and radio equipment. His hands trembled as he gripped the side of the console in front of him, his sharp talons piercing the metal. He reached and changed frequencies quickly before he yelled out her name. "Persephone!"  
There was a slight pause in the transmission before she answered. "I'm so sorry, Folken. I didn't mean for it to end this way. I didn't mean to lie to you." Her voice was hushed, solemn, and confident.  
Folken gripped his hands tightly, his face going slack as he realized what she was saying. "Persephone!" He cried her name once again, desperately, but the transmission had already been terminated. He stumbled back into his chair, his hand covering his face, the only thing visible were his wide eyes. He sat there for a few seconds before he called for one of his servants. "Turen, prepare my guymelef for flight." He said, his face still paler than usual, his body still shaking. "Oh, gods," he whispered after the boy had gone to do his bidding. "Not now. Not yet."  
  
********  
Persephone tore the ear piece from her ear, tears running down her face, her sides aching from the mile sprint. She approached the machines that were launching the attacks steadily, her feet pounding on the ground and her breath in a strange pattern. A few of the soldiers noticed her coming. She heard them yell something undefinable among her panic, but she still ran at them. She remembered the exercises on the main Zaibach fortress. 'Calm your mind. Yes, now. Filter the emotion. Spread it through you. Use it as your strength.' She pushed her fear for Dilandau, his voiceless cry still in her mind, through her body as she stopped a few feet from the men in front of her. They were pulling swords out and approaching her, along with a few archers readying their bows from buildings above. She ignored the men's cries of battle as they came towards her. She kept her eyes closed, her breathing shallow. 'Call on the strength, master it. This is who you are. You are invincible.' She held her arms out to her side, spread, calmly, when the power devoured her. The pain erupted through Persephone's back and the men stopped in horror as they saw the creature before them.  
She felt her back burn slightly under the heat, but she had learned to master them so that it was usually not much worst than a sunburn. But still she felt that flame against her, and she willed herself up above the heads of the gawking onlookers.  
Grown men trembled in horror as they saw her, crimson hair tangling violently around her head, and behind her, like an artist's backdrop, wings of fire, their span forty feet from tip to tip. Feathers of flame and magma floated down, burning some of the onlookers eyes. Persephone's eyes snapped open and that fire rested there, too, flickering and burning. She twisted her wrists, using all her power to concentrate. A flame erupted beneath one of the soldier's feet and he screamed as it consumed him. The fire spread like a creature of flesh, too quickly to be natural. It was then that the archers remembered their bows as their comrades screamed and died below.  
Many of the arrows sent at her hit her fleshless wings, the fire there devouring them and leaving nothing but glowing ash. Yet, one arrow found its target and embedded itself in Persephone's side. An inhuman cry split her lips and, for a hopeful second, the surviving onlookers saw her faulter and begin to drop, her wings fading and flickering. But then she caught herself, her wings beating in the air frantically. She felt panic before the explosion, knowing she was losing control. And finally, the power snapped from her grasps and took control like a plague. She cried out as the flames engulfed her and everything below.   
  
**********  
From the hills above, the forces of Zaibach were frozen in place by awe and horror. The flame had begun in the center of the city, and they could see the outline of what could only be described as wings aflame. They saw them flicker and fade a moment before a violent explosion rocked through the city.  
Screams could be heard as the ground cracked open beneath the people and a river of lava pushed its way through, making everything that was of the city as if it had never existed. The screams didn't last long, and the beautiful city melted before their eyes, the smell of burning flesh thick on the breeze.  
  



	11. Default Chapter Title

Leviathan's Daughter  
GoldenEagle  
  
Author's Note: *An evil laugh fills the room* Torture, torture!!! This is basically the shortest post yet, but you will tremble at my talent! MWAHAHAHAHA- Sorry, I'm a schitzophrinic. We will now return to our normal broadcasting procedures before mini-Dilandau here catches anything else on fire...  
  
Chapter Seventeen  
  
"So, he's stable?" Folken asked distractively as he passed shaken soldiers by in the cover of the forest around Corinth's borders. He had just arrived, the flight only about an hour and half trip, and he could get little rational conversation out of most of the men.  
  
"Yes, Lord Folken. Lord Dilandau has few injuries. Mainly just a bump to the head. Not that it could do much more damage than what is already done..." Folken threw the young boy a disapproving look and the boy continued on nervously. "Most of our causalities came with the two air attacks." The man said quietly, noticing his leader's unstable mood.  
  
"And survivors?" He turned, his voice more rushed now, the slightest bit of emotion twitching across the pale face of Folken. "Have you sent anyone to the city to look for survivors?"  
  
The soldier he was talking to looked shocked as he stopped dead in his tracks. He gaped a few times before he answered. "Survivors? Sir, have you *seen* the city yet?" He asked, bewildered. Folken looked at him oddly. He could smell smoke and something much like sulfur, but surely... Surely it was just one of the local volcanoes acting up a bit. Folken felt a strange damp coldness enter his chest.  
  
He strode quickly forward, the young soldier having to jog to keep up with his long and hurried strides. "I swear, sir, we would have saved her if we knew! We lost her in battle. She'll be honored throughout the empire for the victory here, Zaibach's first battle." The boy's voice was panicked as Folken reached the top of the hill Persephone had stood just the night before. As he took in the town, he swayed backwards as if someone's fist had connected to his own flesh. He stumbled and almost fell, ending up having to kneel down to catch his mind and give his head time to stop spinning.   
  
The boy looked at him, not really sure of what he should do. Lord Folken was kneeled over, one foot behind him, the other set firmly on the ground. He put his head to his knee as he shook uncontrollably for a few seconds. Finally, the Zaibach commander stood, shakily, but strength still pushed from his body. There was a moment of awkward silence before the soldier finally found his voice, though it was barely heard above the burnt breeze. "We'd send out a search party to collect bodies, but..." These didn't seem to be the right words to be said to the ever increasingly intimidating Folken. "We would send out the guymelefs to look for her, but the magma hasn't cooled yet. Nothing would be accomplished besides piling up repair bills for melted guymelef legs."  
  
Folken rubbed his temples quietly, trying to regain his thoughts, despite the fact that they still seemed to elude him. He felt light headed and jet cold throughout, and he slightly wondered if the feeling would stay with him permanently. After a few moments of continued silence, Folken looked up at the nervous, black haired boy. "What's your name?"  
  
The question seemed to take the boy back a bit. "Uh- Sir, it's- Lord Folken, sir- I mean..." After a sigh was taken to control his trembling, the boy spoke. "Langer, sir."  
  
"Langer, is it?" Folken asked, mechanically speaking to the boy. "Couldn't you have sent the guymelefs out in flight mode to look for remains?" He mentally flinched as he referred to them as "remains".  
  
"No, sir." Langer had calmed considerably and was now standing tall, his shoulders stiff and his arms straight at his side. "We wouldn't have been able to bring them close enough to catch sight of anything. Our heat sensors also wouldn't work, for obvious reasons. Plus, we assumed that there wouldn't be any remains, Lord, sir."  
  
"Very well." Folken said, trying to hold back the shaking that was resurfacing over him again. He licked his dry lips before he gave out the next order. "Bring the men out, Langer. I'm holding you fully responsible for getting our troops headed in the direction of the fortress." The young man nodded, a little bit of an eager look in his eyes, and a bit of excitement crackling about his form, as he ran off to do his master's bidding.  
  
Folken gave one more, overly rushed glance over his shoulder. He turned his head back towards his men, trying to muster the strange pain that dove through him as best he could. He stepped back from his heart and watched as if an observer as it struggled under the weight of her blood. Finally, he shook himself free of his daze before letting his eyes swing back towards the still burning city.   
  
'Goodbye, Persephone.'  
  
***********  
  
The Mystic Moon hung straight above, its white companion and diamond subjects frozen and giving an eternal, silent applause in awe of it. The crackling growl of fire had faded somewhat, but there was still the sound of shifting and defeat as the flames and liquid fire continued to devour its surroundings. The heat was like an oven as it spiraled upwards. This was all taken in slowly and dimly by Persephone, her burnt hair spread out around her, her body twisted beneath her. She didn't have the strength to fight the pain that poured from her. She couldn't move and she contemplated if she would die from her burns or her seeping arrow wound first. She tried to decide numbly which she would prefer, but in the end, she couldn't decide. Both felt about the same to her.  
  
Her back arched painfully and uncontrollably, and she clenched her fists and teeth weakly as she tried to will away the battering pain. A taste much like lead filled her mouth and she coughed out as her body fell, exhausted from the convulsions riveting through her. A warm liquid streamed down the side of her face from her mouth and she realized, in a delirious amusement, that it was her own blood. The slight amusement was lost almost immediately, though, as another wave came, her back pressing upwards, and she spit up more blood. So, it would be the arrow, afterall.  
  
She felt as if this were her determined end, here among the ashes of the people she had slaughtered. She smiled a bitter, monstrous smile. Dilandau would be proud of her. It would all be okay, she told herself. She would fade here, laying on the one piece of land untouched by the stream of fire. But that was before she had felt him, not far away, but not close, either. She tried to move, tried to sit up, but couldn't quite do it. Suddenly she was terrified of her laying her, alone, dying...  
  
She calmed herself. No, he would come for her. He would always come for her... And yet, after a painful passing of suspenseful minutes, she felt a defeat in his mind. His thoughts whispered into her mind. 'Goodbye, Persephone.'  
  
She was too hot, too dehydrated to cry, but her face distorted into a sob. Her mind cried out in response to his. 'No! No! Don't leave me! Don't make me die, alone, with no one here! I'm sorry I broke the promise, just come back and I'll try to make it up. Please, don't leave me! Folken!' The cry emanated from her very being in a wave of guilt and despair. She breathed in deeply, only to choke on her own breath. She rolled over and coughed and gagged, a pool of her blood resting below her. Again, she spit up an immense amount of blood. She scowled through crimson lips and reached over with the last bit of strength she had, pulling out the arrow from her side. The pain hit her hard and wrenched her body into another convulsion, rendering her unconscious, her head resting in her own blood.  
  



	12. Default Chapter Title

Leviathan's Daughter  
GoldenEagle  
  
Author's Note: This installment is the shortest so far, but I still think it may be longer than most people's. Anyways, on with the story! Oh, and a quick question. I haven't seen the entire series yet, but I think I know that Folken starts out with white wings, but in all the fanfics I've read and all the pictures I've seen, his wings are described as black. I've heard that they changed that color for some reason. Someone, anyone, please tell me why! It would mean a lot to me. Thanky!  
  
Chapter Eighteen  
  
Folken's body ached, his back muscles and those in his wings screaming painfully, reminding him of how long it had been since they had been used. Yet still he beat them as fast as he could, winding down the streets of Hell, his white feathers singed by the heat radiating off the ground. His eyes searched desperately for her.  
  
'She's got to be here!' His mind screamed. Another part of him twisted on itself, forcing doubt into his being. 'You fool. How do you think anything could survive this destruction? Her call was nothing but a last hope your own mind created for you.' He shook his head at the mental conflict as he moved further into the burning city. 'No. She is alive. She cried for me, she called my name.' He was so distracted from his internal anguish that he almost passed over the untouched piece of land below, but he caught sight of it, almost too late, and banked sharply to take another look at it.  
  
He flapped his wings wearily, hovering above, letting his body lower a bit in exhaustion before his wings beat strongly, bobbing up and down in the noisome breeze. He stared down at the small strip, looking for anything. Any sign of life. Just as he was about to turn away, another wrong turn bashing his hopes down once again, he saw it. The slightest ruffle of fabric or hair, blended so perfectly with ash and blood that it almost matched the settings. Folken took a steep dive and retracted his wings, falling the last few feet to the dry strip so he could avoid his delicate feathers from catching aflame.  
  
He stepped forward slowly and searched again, the air so thick with heat that it shifted and distorted the scene. It was then that he saw the body, laying on its side. Blood was everywhere, an arrow rested over to the left. Folken swallowed deeply as he stepped forward. 'Surely... It can't be... This hideous remnant *can't* be her...' But, even as these thoughts rushed through his mind, he could see the outline of her face, the faint scar dimly shown behind the dried blood. As he realized it was her, his being shuttered and he took a step back before he rushed forward, kneeling at her side.  
  
A cold tremor whispered through him, a grim horror as he took in her lifeless form, still warm from the life that had recently dwelled there. Or, then again, perhaps it was the city that kept her body warm, as if to play a last joke on the Prince of Fanalia. The ultimate traitor. He just stared at her for a moment, his hands trembling by his side, his eyes only on her. He had been too late. He had been too late... No. Not yet. He wouldn't let her go. He *couldn't* let her go.  
  
'I need you. I need you.'  
  
************  
  
Death was a slow, seductive thing. It twisted and danced before Persephone's vision. All was darkness, and yet she saw it there. Darker than the darkest night. It looked comforting, quiet. Some place she may find peace in. She sighed inwardly, forgetting all that had filled her life. Death was also an amnesiac, drifting into a person's senses before stealing everything they held dear in their life away from them, completely lost in the splendid dance of its formless being. She reached out, her soul's hand glazing the top of it. It stole her breath and forced her to let out a last sigh, along with that breath, her spirit began to drift away, freed from what it once saw as itself.  
  
Suddenly, she was forced back, painfully, death becoming angry. Its form twisted and burned and became more of a hideous monster than the release it had been before. Persephone shrunk away from it, painfully and hopefully, remembering all that had been in her life worth living for. She remembered her promise to him... Death reached out for her, suddenly blazing in a black, yet blinding, flame, but as before, something again pulled her back, as if dragging her from a cliff's edge. The seductive being called her name once more, and she wanted to go, wanted to fling herself violently into its grasp. Again it muttered her name, knowing it would win, knowing that she would give in-  
  
"Persephone!" The words, the voice, the touch pulled her back again and she became more fully aware of her life once more. "Breath, Persephone! Damnit, that's an order!" The rage, the pain, the dependency in that voice pulled her fully into her body once more. Death gave one final hiss before it dissipated. Its dark form was replaced as she opened her eyes, her true eyes, and saw only flame and flesh and feathers. And along with a glint of metal. A dim part of her took this all in. 'Folken, you came back for me.' With that, Persephone closed her eyes again, lost in a sleep that held neither nightmare nor a seductive death. She melted into his arms as they wrapped around her, willing to let him take hold of her fate. Fully faithful that he would not let death graze her so closely again.  
  
Chapter Nineteen  
  
Langer paced nervously, only a few of the other soldiers waiting with him. The rest of the Zaibach troop and made its way to the location of which they would be picked up. But the boy had stayed, waiting for Folken to return. A part of Langer questioned if such a man had been driven into madness. They often said that geniuses were always walking a thin line between brilliance and insanity. Gods, he had seemed insane when he had left!  
  
Langer just remembered them preparing to leave, the Lord Folken at his side, when the man had suddenly turned, his eyes gone wide, his body rigid. The soldier had just stared at him, waiting, wondering what the blazes was up with his superior. Folken had turned then and sprinted before launching into the air and releasing his wings-  
  
The boy shuttered, the sight of the Fire Wings still in his mind from a few hours before. 'Draconian,' he thought with a shutter. Langer had been raised in a part of Gaea that was not as prejudiced to the mythical creatures. Afterall, Taran's very symbol of protection was that of the Third Guardian, a Draconian with wings of earth and vegetation. Folken was a Draconian, obviously, but not of the kind that were to be feared the most. His revealing of this secret was not a great concern in Langer's mind. Many prophesies had been given in regard to the Atlantians in his region, great prophesies. Foreseeing of a uniting of all four of the Guardians, and then ultimate peace. Yet they had been regretfully recalled about a century ago when the Third Guardian had been slaughtered. They say the place where he had been destroyed still refused to bear life to that day. The Four Guardians of Atlantis. He knew that the wings he had seen over the city were that of the Fourth. All prophesies in regard to that Draconian were sketchy and dark, a god of war and renewal, of death and a chance at new life. The Fourth was the one rumored to be a signal of the End Times. When he showed his wings once more, it meant that Apocalypse was on the verge of awakening. It had been the Fourth that had destroyed the Third, denying Taran of its Guardian. This fire meant a curse, not a rebirth. A demon, not a protector.  
  
Langer started from his memories of childhood stories and looked up, his eyes showing relief before his face went slack in shock. Folken came down, his wings burnt and covered in suit. It was the form in his arms that caught Langer's attention as Folken stumbled forward, too exhausted to stand. Langer rushed forward and helped him to his knees, eyeing the trembling girl in his arms. As he had thought, it was Lord Persephone. He looked down at her severely, trying to read every line on her face. 'So weak and frail, yet the only survivor.' Langer shuddered. 'Is it possible? This scarred and torn girl from the Mystic Moon... Among Zaibach troops...The Fourth?'  
  
"Langer." Folken gasped in, his breath not quite restored, interrupting his thoughts. "Get someone to look at her. Quickly!"  
  
The soldier nodded and turned, his head and eyes focused on Persephone's pale and pain stricken face a moment too long. He then ran, calling on the medical personnel he had thought might be needed to look into Folken's condition if he returned. They came at his cry and rushed past him to Folken's side before halting, their shocked and amazed eyes on the girl in his arms.  
  
"Get her patched up. Make her better." Folken said, still weak from the continuos strain that had been put on his now hidden wings.  
  
The group looked at eachother questioningly. Their eyes all read the same thing: 'He brings us a girl as battered as this? He might as well have brought us a corpse and told us to breath life back into it!'  
  
Folken read the look on their faces and bared his teeth in rage. Faint burns marked his face and hands. "If she dies, you die, with even more pain than what she is in now. Do you understand?" Folken growled out. The doctors stared at him in fear at the force behind his words.  
  
"Yes, Lord Folken." The one that seemed to be in the lead of the few answered shakily. "We'll do our best."  
  
The Lord reluctantly let them take her trembling and moaning body from his grasp before pushing his way to his feet and following her. His steps seemed uneven, as if he had drunken too much wine. Langer saw the warning signs right before it hit. "Lord Folken!" It was all he had time to say before he raced forward and helped the tall form to the ground, unconscious from sheer exhaustion and dehydration. A few more medical officers rushed to his side and, with the help of Langer, pulled the limp form up and dragged him along behind the others. They prepared the two for transportation, side by side.  
  



	13. Default Chapter Title

Leviathan's Daughter  
GoldenEagle  
  
Author's Note: Hey, has anyone noticed how it's hard to get into FF.Net these days? Oh, another thing. I recently read a profile on Folken and there is a lot of stuff, especially with the dragon, that are not right from previous chapters. And in the future, I can say the same. But just look over it, pleeeassse? I'm trying my best and it is my story, so me, being the all powerful writer I am, can make changes. Right? *sweat drops* Oh, also, one of the section here, the one with Chawner, hopefully isn't too confusing. If it is, just say so and maybe I can explain in the next installment. Anywho, on with the story!  
  
Chapter Twenty  
  
She moaned. Fire. Why was she still on fire...?  
  
"She's still running a fever, Lord Folken. Infection has set in. We can't seem to bring it down."  
  
So thirsty... Her throat was dry, and yet her mouth was continually filled with hot, thick liquid...  
  
"We can't get any food in her. We can't get any water to her. Apparently, the arrow punctured both her stomach and left lung. She's constantly coughing up blood. We can't stop the bleeding."  
  
She was cold, and yet hot. Her body shivered, then wrenched violently into great shaking convulsions. Somehow, when she had lost control of the fire, she had lost control of a piece of her body and mind, as well...  
  
"She's lapsing into constant seizures. They're draining the energy from her. Plus, they're getting more violent. We're afraid some of the spasms could kill her. Snap her neck, stop her breathing, affect her heart... It's all just a matter of time now."  
  
Death paced in the back of her being like a prowling cat, coming forward in the worst of her pains, tempting her to reach out to it. And, many times, she would, but draw her hand back suddenly. But the seductive dance still was held and she realized dully that, when she was weakest, it would spring upon her, taking her, tired of giving the chance of her coming willingly. Still, it whispered her name. But she would not listen. There was a voice still echoing in her mind far sweeter and seductive than its own...  
  
"But, it is quite amazing. A miracle she's still alive. She barely has any blood in her. She should have been dead long ago. It's like she has reached past her fate and has a firm, if small, grasp on immortality."  
  
Through her veil of sleep and fever, she felt a warm, soft touch against her face. The chains of near death kept her from reacting physically, but inwardly, her soul trembled with longing to return the touch. 'Folken, wait for me. Don't leave me...'  
  
Folken lifted from her, his lips warm from the touch of her fevered cheek. He sighed and sat back in a chair, not having slept since awaking from his loss of consciousness the day before. The doctors gave him a questioning look, but he made no movement. "I'm waiting for her to wake up. I'm staying here. With her."  
  
*********  
  
Long, callused fingers pressed against her neck, then opened her eyelids, checking her vital signs. They slid down the side of her cheek and the unconscious girl flinched at the familiar and painful memory they brought. They passed momentarily over her cracked and dry lips-  
  
"Agh!" The man cried out as an iron grasp curled around his throat and he was pulled away from the girl. The tips of sharp talons punctured his skin. He looked up wildly at his assailant, clawing at the metal hand wrapped around his throat. His mouth opened silently in search of breath, but received none. A pale and long face met his, the eyes glowing with a protective rage, the lips set in a thin and rigid line. Dots of blackness floated into his vision as he felt his body begin to fade.  
  
"Lord Folken, what the hell *are* you doing?!" The grasp loosened on his throat and he fell, coughing and sputtering on the floor. The man looked up at the creature that had just attacked him with a burning rage in his gaze. But Folken didn't seem to notice, his gaze focused on the speaker standing in the opposite direction.   
  
"Who are you?" He said in a low, calm voice, his gaze floating down at the man gasping on the floor momentarily.  
  
The silhouette in the doorway seemed to demand respect, giving off an unearthly amount of power. Folken saw his mouth twitch in a small quirk. "I'm Lieutenant Guren of the Inner Sector." The grey hair man said as he stepped forward. "Lord Dornkirk has sent us to bring the girl back with us."  
  
Folken eyed the older man suspiciously, but turned quickly when a voice behind him broke him from his cautious gaze. The voice was slightly raspy, still recovering from its earlier onslaught. A tall man, surely not much older than him, stood with his shoulders slightly slumped. Black hair fell over piercing green eyes and he sneered as he spoke. "Lord Dornkirk believes that he can save her when your men cannot. Does this bother you, Lord Folken?" His voice had taken on a sarcastic tone. Folken's distaste in the boy was immediately restored, but he took a quick check of his anger.  
  
"I apologize about my previous reaction. I had awoken to find someone in the room, touching Per- Lord Persephone." Folken said calmly. "I was only trying to protect her from an intruder."  
  
Chawner, for that was his name, smirked in contempt. "Don't worry, Lord Folken. She is in the best of hands now."  
  
"We must leave quickly." Guren said as he called in attendants to prepare Persephone for her travel. Folken was taken a little too quickly by all of this.   
  
"But-"  
  
"Do you want her to live or not?" Chawner growled. Folken gave one final glance at Persephone's form, which had taken to another seizure and nodded, the exhaustion clear and consuming in his eyes. He had done all he could for her. And it wasn't enough.   
  
Chapter Twenty-One  
  
Folken rubbed his temples, trying to relieve the migraine that was pushing and confusing his thoughts. "Look, I'm working on finding and correcting the small glitches in the invisibility cloaks. You need to give me more time." He growled, looking up through his bangs at the officer on the screen in front of him.  
  
"This project was given to you three weeks ago, Lord Folken. I don't know what is on your mind, but you better get it resolved. I'm not seeing any more potential in your work thus far besides some shady promises. I expect to see results by next week." With that, the transmission ended.  
  
Folken groaned, his head in his hands. Things were getting worse. His concentration was shattered, but he didn't know why- Hold that thought. He *did* know why, but it was a thought he did not want to contemplate. And yet his mind ticked off the numbers quickly, the facts, the doubts and fears.  
  
Three and a half weeks ago, taken. He visited her often, the position his ship held only about a thirty minute flight from the base. Reports told of her health improving, but the seizures continued. She was weak. She was in some other ship, with strangers. Had she awaken? No. She had been in a coma like state from the beginning. Hopes were running low on her ever waking up. Folken slammed his metal fist down on the edge of his iron chair, denting the cool surface. He had to get a grip! Why did it matter so much to him? She was just another soldier. Sure, she had saved him, befriended him, trusted him... But so had his family, so had Fanalia! Did he stand around moaning and groaning about that? Yet still he couldn't push it out of his mind, her pale face clenched as she went into convulsions. He gritted his teeth. Why... Why should it matter? Why did it matter? She was just another person... Just his savior... Just Persephone... But he couldn't help but *just* loving her.  
  
************  
  
Moonlight streamed down, a woman stood, her babe in her arms. 'Two worlds, two fates, caught in-between. Trusting and doubting in the unseen. Child of mine, galaxies apart. Two worlds, two fates, one heart.' The song echoed through the recesses of Persephone's mind, the image of a woman's face staring down at her, two hazel eyes looking out through long, straight red hair. And above, in the distance, two moons, one a deathly white, the other a lively blend of green and blue. Persephone stirred in the back of her being. 'Mother...?'  
  
Flashes burst into her mind, mostly of death and fire and blood, of those like her and their own betrayal. But in the end, she saw that young, gentle face looking down on her, tears falling from her wide, sad eyes. Wings of flame erupted in the background and then a white light surrounded them. She felt her form, so small in the vision, being lifted up, her mother's arms lifted up to her in a desperate and yet untrying plea for her. The last sight was of the attack from behind, the sword piercing the woman's side, but still that sad smile was there, for her. This red haired creature had admitted her defeat, falling to the ground in a pool of her own blood, her attacker staring up at the quickly disappearing babe. Persephone felt a violent upheaval swirl within her. 'No!' Her eyes flashed open and she sat up, only to fall down again, gasping for breath weakly. She focused her eyes quietly, trying to figure out where she was, the dream already fading from her immediate attention.  
  
The room was dark and machines of all kinds whirred around her, the slightest beep of her pulse. Where was she? "Folken." She whispered, her eyes wide. She forced herself up, panic sweeping her as the familiarity of the room sunk in. "Folken!" She cried out, her fear all too evident. No answer came and she was left there, shivering and awaiting whatever may come next.  
  
***********  
  
Folken stood quickly from his chair, a very serious, very boring meeting taking place in the darkened room. Several sets of eyes focused on him from behind video screens, their voices going silent. Finally one spoke.   
  
"Lord Folken, what *are* you doing?" The voice said quickly, annoyed.  
  
"Excuse me gentlemen. I'm afraid I have some important business to take care of." He rushed out of the room, and once outside the door he broke into a run, a bizarre grin on his face. He skidded past a gawking soldier but turned quickly, almost falling on the slick floor. "Declare an order for the preparations of my guymelef." He said plainly before heading for docking. The young soldier's mouth hung open for a second.  
  
"Ye-Yes, Lord Folken." With that, the boy ran over to one of the communication centers nearby and let out the order.  
  
Folken felt giddy. He had felt a sudden consciousness in his being, a thing that he had not realized was missing till it had returned. He knew full well what it was, and his soul screamed her name wildly. 'Persephone! She's awake!' He felt like a child again, a part of him asking how he could be so sure by just a feeling. But he knew. And he was going to bring her back. Bring her back to him.  
  
  



	14. Default Chapter Title

Leviathan's Daughter  
GoldenEagle  
  
Author's Note: This has some adult content in it, mostly concerning the whole abuse issue. That's why it's rate R. Maybe R was a little too much, but, just to be safe... Anyways, I stayed up till three writing this, so you better like it! Hmph! We see more romance in these chapters, and some more of Dillandau, who seemed to do a dissapearing act in the last few chapters. He doesn't make too much of an appearance in this installment, but atleast he's there! Enjoy!  
  
Chapter Twenty-Two  
  
Persephone sat up slowly as the door to her room opened. She could see the silhouette of a man, tall and strong in the doorway. Her heart lept. "Folken?" She asked timidly.  
  
"Not quite, love." As he stepped forward, the door shut behind him, and Persephone could see her visitor in the dim light. Her eyes went wide, her heartbeat increased in terror.  
  
"Chawner." Her body trembled violently, her being shaken to the core. He walked slowly up to her, his movements suave and smooth. "Please, don't... Chawner. Please don't hurt me..." Her voice had become a whimper and she pushed herself against the head of her bed.  
  
A hurt look crossed his face, and Persephone knew the look was genuine, no matter how twisted it truly was. "I would never hurt you. You know that, Perseph." The concern in his voice sickened her as he kneeled down on the bed in front of her. She pressed back as far as she could go. But still he came forward, an obsession and insanity in his eyes.  
  
"You always hurt me." She said as hot tears fell from her clenched shut eyes, despite her attempts to hold them there. Chawner had been one of the men... One of those who had come to her that one night, after too many drinks... Ripped away her innocence, poisoned a piece of her. Yet Chawner had become obsessed. For some reason, he thought he loved her. Perhaps he did. Yes, she was quite sure he did love her in some twisted way, a strange and piluted love he believed he could force on her. It had been him that came back, so often... She shuddered as she felt his lips on her neck, his hands forcing hers against the head of the bed.  
  
Through passionate kisses and nibbles he spoke to her. "I would never hurt you." She felt his tongue draw lazily across her jaw line. She moved her head to the side, her face clenched along with her whole body. "I'm glad you're okay, Persephone." He whispered against her clenched lips. "I needed you. Damn that man for keeping you there with him." He pulled back quietly, and she opened her eyes out of pure curiosity. "Why do you fear me so much? What did he do to you?" he asked in a painful whisper. Persephone wanted to fight back, to say something, but she was still to weak. Too weak... Tears coursed down her face as she clenched her eyes shut again. "I'll show you how to love again, Persephone. That man will never touch you again." With that his lips fell frantically over hers and she cried harder, though silently, as he forced her mouth open with his tongue. It was time to fade away...  
  
And yet, within her there was a strength building. A strength that was not her own, it would seem. She ran her finger tips against the side of his hand. He pulled back, his eyes lowered in a lustful haze. Persephone forced a smile that didn't go with her tear stained and cold eyes. "I want to touch you." She whispered. He smiled fully at this, his every dream consisting of those words. He released her wrists and she reached up, quietly, and cupped his face, bringing him to her. Their lips met softly and she brought it deeper, her tongue running across his bottom lip. He answered and their tongues met. It was all Persephone could do not to vomit as she started to concentrate.  
  
Chawner first thought it only the warmth of his passion as he felt her palms hot against his face. But soon the heat became uncomfortable, and with a flash of fire and a momentary sizzle, Chawner fell backwards, screaming. He fell of the bed, his head hitting the floor. He pulled himself up to a nearby dresser and stared at the mirror, speechless. Two hand shaped marks of burnt and melting flesh shown on his face. He turned angrily to Persephone, who was trying to stand without falling. "Why, you little bitch..." He launched himself at her and she fell, pushing herself against the wall, glass shattering as she tipped over a nearby table. His hands reached around her throat and she felt her breath leave her. "You bitch. I'll show you what happens to those who rise against me-" A strangled noise fell through his lips and Persephone coughed and gasped as his grip around her neck loosened. She tried to catch her breath as she looked up, the man before her falling backwards, blood rushing through his lips. And as he fell, the other man before her was revealed, bloodied sword still in his hand.  
  
Their eyes met and, for a few seconds, nothing was said. And then a sob roared through Persephone's lips and he was kneeling down in front of her, words of concern and joy and pain issuing from him. His hands touched her face, her bruised neck, her hair... And the Prince of Fanalia helped her rise, shaking and unsteady, from the floor. Whispers still fell from him and he pushed forward, kissing the tears from her cheek, kisses falling on her chin, and finally his lips rested on her forehead. He yearned to meet her lips with his own, but not after this... Not so briefly after the twisted love she had just seen.  
  
And she let him comfort her, her breath slow and even, her eyes closed in a single, short moment of utter peace. He rested his forehead on hers and she gradually opened her eyes. She met the steel gaze of Folken. She smiled, new tears dimming her vision. "So, I guess you would be my Knight in shining armor, hm?" She said slightly sarcastic. He stared solemnly back at her, his eyes only a couple of inches from her own, his breath warm against her face. "My Prince come to save me at last?" She smiled at this.  
  
"I'll always come for you, Persephone."   
  
Chapter Twenty-Three  
  
They walked out of that room together, both their faces filled with a new rigid strength. By then, people had started to take notice of the strange events in that room, but, despite the lifeless corpse that lay back there, no one stood in the way of Folken and Persephone. Alone, their strength would have been intimidating. But, side by side, the power they drew off each other was terrifying.  
  
They reached his Guymelef silently, no word need be said between the two. Folken took the main seat and offered out a hand to Persephone. She jumped into it, despite her weakness, and laid her hot, spinning head against the cool metal as the hand curled gently around her, making sure not to hurt her. With that, the two left, and, thirty-five minutes later, found themselves back "home".  
  
************  
  
Soldiers stopped and stared as the two passed them, hand in hand. By this measure, he led a stumbling and exhausted Persephone towards her room. They were nearing when a voice cried out.  
  
"Persephone! You're back!" She turned weakly at the voice and a true, real smile, though small, flitted across her lips. Dillandau threw his arms around her and she stumbled back a bit, only to find herself pushed against Folken's chest. The teenager looked up at her. "I thought you were going to die!" He said, as if making light hearted chatter. "That would have been a great loss. You're a great warrior." His excited eyes reached up to Folken's. "Did you see what she did? An entire city! All burnt, charred, ash..." His eyes were that creepy red color and Folken frowned.  
  
It was the remembrance of the battle that brought it on. She remembered the feeling of losing control of the fire, the panic and fear. "Persephone?" Folken asked quietly, quizzically, as he felt the slightest bit of a tremor run through her against his chest. And then her head snapped to the side and the shaking threw her from his chest. He gripped her shoulders and she jerked wildly, like a fish out of water.  
  
Dillandau had taken a step back, his eyes wide in shock. "Wh-What's wrong with her?" he asked in a small voice, a strange, painful emotion he did not recognize seeping into him.  
  
Folken held her down against the floor, his face cold and hard as her eyes rolled back into her head, her legs flailing against the cold metal. "It's a seizure." He said quietly, almost unheard by Dillandau. And then, where no one but himself could hear, he muttered, "So, even now Fate cannot let her go untouched." He loosened his muscles as Persephone's convulsions faded into small, continuous shivers and a brief flinching every few seconds. Folken lowered his head quietly, the voices of curious and concerned soldier surrounding him. With a weary sigh, he scooped her up, pushing through the crowd with her limp in his arms.   
  
"Folken, she will be all right, won't she?" He turned to Dillandau, the boy standing tall, his hands behind his back. But, in the far recess of his eyes, there was a fraction of a tear, and the side of his face twitched once or twice as the teenager tried to force it to be calm.   
  
Folken forced a reassuring smile. "Of course." He said calmly. "Of course. You think a little fit like that's going to hurt her?"   
  
Dillandau lost momentary control of his emotions and a relieved smile cracked his face before it was forced away. "Good. Lord Dornkirk would skin us if we let her die." With that he left Folken, standing on the inside of the room, Persephone still motionless in his arms.  
  
As he closed the door he smiled a real smile, however dim it was. Perhaps Persephone was right. Perhaps there really was more to Dillandau than what met the eye.  
  
  



	15. Default Chapter Title

Leviathan's Daughter  
GoldenEagle  
  
Author's note: Nothing much really happens in this chapter but a deeper view into the charectors as I try to build some realistic and strong ties between Persephone and Folken.  
  
Chapter Seven  
Persephone cursed herself as her ankle twisted beneath her, another failed lunge in her training of the blades. She tried to pretend it was all simple stress, her transfer to Zaibach's base for training only a couple of week away, but she knew it was a lie. She rubbed her tender ankle, cursing her own distractions. Of course, others had noticed her lack of concentration recently, also. And they knew just as well as she did, though she denied herself the thought, that her mistakes were because of the boy. The prince.  
When that thought came to mind, she growled with pride and would go through her exercises viciously, rendering herself so tired that all she could do was sleep for hours when she was done. All she really did was eat a small breakfast, train, and sleep, avoiding Folken as much as possible. The physical results of this stress were showing, too, as the lack of nutrition, healthy sleep, and plain self management warped her body beyond shape. Beyond health.  
She was nothing more than malnutritioned muscle and bone. And on this day, as Persephone came crashing to her knees in the middle of the empty training center, her body braking down, she was forced to fess up to the facts:  
She had drawn too close, too fast, to this prince.  
It was not as one person may think. It was not a love that she felt for Folken, nor a hate, nor any true feeling at all. That is, besides the obligation. The responsibility. And the guilt of watching the lively boy she had meant to save being slowly transformed into what she was now. A soulless body, emotional walls built from here to the sky. A cold mind. A merciless soul. And a dead heart.  
Plus, Folken's very personality was too much a reminder of what few good qualities she had once had and what traits she could have had. It royally pissed Persephone off in a way, rendered such a weakling by Folken. In the end, she realized she could no longer draw back from the soul drifting inside the prince. She had to delve forward and somehow find a piece of her past she had once lost. A piece she had never remembered feeling. Her unstable life was not truly brought on by Folken, but by her own guilt.  
  
*********  
Folken walked into his room, throwing off the heavy leather trench coat he had been wearing onto the floor. "Fire." He said plainly, and a small fire lept up in what was much like a fireplace, casting flickering light through only a few shadows in the dark room. Folken ripped off his shirt, glad to get rid of the itchy material when he sensed her, right behind him.   
His instinct of her presence was correct and he felt strangely cornered as she sat on a small couch in the shadows, the light of the fire flickering over her motionless body and reflecting violently in her eyes. It had been a long time since Folken had spoken to his savior. Or, be it better put, it had been a long while since she had spoken to him. "How are you doing, Folken Fanel?" Her voice was quiet and a strange feeling hit him, like he had missed something. He searched his mind, but could find nothing, but then he searched her voice. A strange wave of wonder hit him as he recognized the broken tone that had crept into her voice. Though it was a small tone, it rang loud and clear in the dark room.  
"I am doing well." He lied. He physically grimaced as the words came out, somehow knowing that she would see past the lie. See that-  
"You miss Fanalia." She said plainly, completing his thoughts. He looked away from her, and all Persephone could see was his strong muscled back, silhouetted in the fire light. She sighed quietly, trying to get past a barrier, try to open up to herself. She searched for the same emotion in her, the homesickness he must have felt, but there were few things on earth she enjoyed. She closed her eyes and tried to remember what brought her comfort... What familiar things brought her peace... Her eyes snapped open as she smiled sadly, all the good things in her life, though few they were, rushing back to her. "I miss the sound of the train on the tracks not far from the Home, its whistle would wake me at unthinkable times in the early morning, and yet, on some nights, I'd just lay there, staring up at the ceiling as it puffed past." Persephone's eyes grew distant and Folken turned to look at her, confused by her words, by what they meant. "I miss the way the other girls would snore at night, an annoying little remembrance, really. But it happened every night. It was a sure thing. A familiar thing. There were also the birds which nested in the trees right outside my window. They'd come back, year after year, each new generation." She couldn't stop the smile from going slightly sour on her as self pity washed over her. "And I miss there only being one moon, I miss the familiar figures in the stars. Scorpio, Draco, the Big Dipper..."  
Folken had long ago realized what she was talking about, where she was talking about. He stared at her with a new respect, the girl from the Mystic Moon. Folken's memories rushed out before he could stop them, his sould desperately reaching out to someone who could relate. "I miss the way it would get so hot in the town square that people would all just hide in the shadows, talking and gossiping until it was cool enough to move around. I miss the way the air smelled. Smells from all over Gaea." Folken locked his jaw before going on, the rest harder for him. "I miss the way Van used to tug at me, always wanting to go where I went. Always wanting to be me."  
"Van?" Persephone asked, wanting to go on and talk about his family so she could imagine it as if it were her own. As if it had been her joy, her family.  
Folken smiled distantly. "My little brother. Van." A short pause followed before he continued. "And I miss the way my mom would give us that look when we were in trouble, or had almost got hurt, and she wasn't quite sure if to be sad, angry, or just plain happy. You know the look." He said, smiling down at Persephone from where she lay. The fire had grown larger, revealing her face.  
She frowned slightly, her face becoming restless. "No, Folken. I don't." Folken blinked slowly, stunned. "I never had a mother, not since back before I could remember." But then she smiled up at him, a warm smile. A smile out of place on her. "But tell me what it looked like. What it looked like when your mother looked at you in such a way."  
Folken stood, dumbfounded, before he took a seat next to Persephone, she having to draw her legs up so he would have room. He squinted his eyes at the flames, trying to remember just how she looked, his mother, when she gave that look. "It was always after we got in trouble." He said slow, thoughtfully. "I mean, big trouble, as Van and I often did." He smiled a small smile at the memory, but Persephone could see it reach his eyes as they misted over with memory. "She'd always put her hands on her hips, her face betraying a false vision of anger, but then the tears would flow. They fell in just a way to make both Van or I horribly sorry for doing such a dangerous thing. And then she would draw us close, a smile on her face as she whispered how glad she was that we were okay, and her eyes would fill with... with..." Folken looked back on it, looking for the word that would best describe what he had seen.  
"With what?" Persephone whispered, transfixed by the image of a woman looking down at her as she stared into the fire. But the eyes were blank. She needed to know what was in the eyes...  
"With love." He said slowly, glancing over at her. She closed her eyes and squinted, but as hard as she tried, she couldn't fill in the gap. She couldn't fill that look in. She realized with a sudden pang as the vision of a mother, a mother she wanted so badly to be hers, slipped away, that she had no idea what that gaze would look like. She shuddered, the ice around her heart that had melted momentarily going back up. Folken could see the hardening over her face and eyes and his heart sank as he realized she was the woman again. The woman who he could do nothing but fear. Yet, inside, a piece of Persephone was broken, a part of her missing as she realized the truth.  
She didn't know what love looked like.  
  
  



	16. Default Chapter Title

Leviathan's Daughter  
GoldenEagle  
  
Author's Note: Hmm... Is this the end...? No, not really. Hehe. Oh well. All of you in this for the romance (which would probably *have* to be all of you, here is a little candy for you guys. Please Review!!! No one did for a long time on my other one and I was afraid no one loved me anymore! *wails* Sorry. *sniff sniff* I'm in an extremely unstable mood right now, which would explain the sad turn the story has taken...  
  
  
Chapter Twenty-Four  
  
Persephone woke clear headed, as if she had woken up after sleeping in on a Sunday afternoon. She sat up calmly, slightly aware of the strange soreness in her muscles. As if she had just worked out very, very hard. "How do you feel?"  
  
She looked up calmly at Folken, who was busy looking over some papers next to her bed. She stretched, wincing a bit at the soreness in her limbs. "I feel great." She paused, a blank drawing in her mind. "What happened?" She asked, suddenly aware that she couldn't remember what happened after Dillandau had pounced on her.  
  
"What do you remember?" Folken forced his eyes away from his work to look up at her, his composure strong and confident. It comforted Persephone.  
  
"Hmm.... I remember Dillandau running up, saying something about the battle..." She wrinkled her nose. "But after that, it's all gone. I don't remember a thing."  
  
Folken breathed in and let out a calm sigh. "You had a seizure." He said at last. Persephone jerked quietly, muscles complaining in places she didn't even know she had muscles.   
  
"Sei-Seizure? I had a seizure?" She said, blinking slowly, in amazement. Folken nodded, not saying a word. "O... Kay." A pause issued between the two syllables. She shook the thought away for later contemplation and stood, rather shakily, making her way over to Folken's sitting form. "What are you working on?" She asked quietly, looking over his shoulder.  
  
He mumbled out a wordless response, telling of his weariness, and turned back to the sheets before him. Persephone leaned over him to see the information, and found a large map spread out across the table. "I'm supposed to map out where our next battles will take place in. The red x's are the ones we need to hit first."  
  
She stared quizzically at the strand of red x's across the paper. She tried not to think about what they meant, the death they foretold. Her eyes caught on a dark, rigid x not too far on the paper. "What's that one for?" She asked quietly.  
  
The weariness increased in Folken as he saw the x she pointed at. "That is a special... request... which Lord Dornkirk has asked us to act upon. We're supposed to retrieve an item of great value there."  
  
She stared quizzically at it for a moment before she stumbled backwards, her eyes wide. Folken stood and turned to her, a confused look on his face. She stared at the floor before looking up at him, her eyes filled with horror and disgust, her mouth gaping a bit. "Folken! Folken, but that's... That's-"  
  
"Fanalia." He answered for her.  
  
She looked at him through bitter eyes. "You're going to attack you're own country?! Folken...?"  
  
He turned from her quickly, a bit of anger seeping from him at her convictions. "Fanelia is no longer my country. Besides, it's only a retrieval mission. Fanelia should not be damaged."  
  
Regretted and angry tears fell down her face. "Folken, if you do this... If you attack Fanelia... Do you know what this means? Do you know what this will do to you? It's the only link to your past that you still have. Folken, it will destroy you! Destroy everything good that Fanelia made you to be!"  
  
He turned around, rage radiating from him. "It is Zaibach that I'm loyal to now! I owe them everything! Zaibach saved me-"  
  
"I saved you." Persephone whispered.  
  
He pushed her words from his mind with closed eyes. "They gave me my life, my   
arm back-"  
  
"I gave you your life back."  
  
He snarled at her words, denial seeping unsteadily from him. "They loved me when I knew no one else would. They loved me when I knew Fanalia would not."  
  
"I loved you, Folken. I loved you when no one else would. Not even Zaibach." He looked up at her with pained eyes. She met him with a gaze just as equally broken.  
  
"It's just a retrieval mission." Folken said, surprised by the distortion his words held through the unnoticed sob.  
  
"Is Dillandau coming with you?" She asked quietly, her voice calming.  
  
"Yes." Folken answered simply.  
  
"Then it's more than a retrieval mission, Folken. You know Lord Dornkirk would not send him out if it were just that."  
  
Folken sat down in defeat, knowing full well that she was telling the truth. He folded his arms on the table in front of him before resting his head there tiredly. "I know. But there is nothing I can do to stop it. I feel I at least should be there, to see what my betrayal has led to. Lord Dornkirk has put Dillandau in the lead of selected soldiers called the Dragon Slayers. That is what we seek in Fanalia. Escaflowne. The royal guymelef." He heard her kneel down behind him, and he shuttered longingly, despite his grief, at the warmth of her arms as they wrapped around his broad chest from behind.  
  
"It's all my fault, Folken. If I had never come, if I had never complied to Zaibach... Or, at least, I could have brought you back to Fanalia, where you would have stayed with your family. Then this wouldn't be happening. It's my fault. All the things I've done, no matter how good the intention was, all leads to this death. To this meaningless and crushing slaughter. All these people's blood, all of your tears, all are on my hands." She muttered, her voice muffled against his back.  
  
He turned in her embrace, forcing her to release him. He stared down at her downcast face, a guilt and shame lying there. He lifted her chin gently, and she opened her eyes regretfully. "If you wouldn't have come, Dillandau would be more of a monster than he already is. If you wouldn't have come, I would be dead, devoured by a dragon I pridefully thought I would kill. And if you would have come and brought me back to Fanalia, they would not have been able to save me. I would have bled to death. And then Zaibach would still have come to do what it is now about to do."  
  
She sighed in reluctant acknowledgment. "Your brother..." She muttered, not meeting his gaze.  
  
At the mention of Van, Folken stumbled in his own thoughts. "Van... Van will very soon become king. It won't be long until he is ordered to kill the dragon. I'm sure he will do so."  
  
"He'll hate you."  
  
"But I'll still love him." Folken said plainly, reminiscing on past memories.   
  
Persephone pulled away, and still she would not meet his eyes. "I've... I've got to go, Folken. Before I cause anymore pain." She said, finally looking at him.  
  
It took a moment before he realized what she was saying. "Go? Leave Zaibach?" He asked, his eyes going wide in a sudden fear of loss. She nodded serenely. "Why?" He said in a whisper.  
  
She looked away for the hundredth time, but this time her face was held in a thoughtful pose, her eyes roming over the thoughts flashing through her mind. "I'm..." She paused. "I don't know how to explain it. This isn't my fate, Folken. There is somewhere... Somewhere else where I belong."   
  
"You belong with me." He choked out, tears falling even as he fought against them.  
  
She smiled sadly at him. "Yes. But you now belong with Zaibach." She saw him lower his head, crushed, but still strong. "You... You won't try to stop me?" It was a pained, hopeful question. A part of her wanted him to try. The other part didn't, knowing that she may not be able to resist.  
  
He shook his head. "No, Persephone." But his very tears contradicted his words, for they reached for her soul with chains that were stronger than any physical restraints. She closed her eyes, pushing away those clamps.  
  
His eyes were also closed, wanting her to leave, but not wanting to see her do so. This felt right, despite the pain. He felt a warmth pressed against his lips and his eyes opened in surprise. But his vision faded as Persephone pushed deeper into the kiss, her mouth urging his to comply. He kissed her, deeply and sadly, the taste of their tears tainting the moment. Finally, he could hold back his pain no longer and a sob left his mouth and filled Persephone's. She kissed him gently as more sobs left him. He pulled her to him harder, wanting to feel every piece of her. This was not the kiss he wanted. He wanted their love to be a joyful, hopeful thing. All that was left now was a shattering pain, a desperate attempt to share each other before saying goodbye.  
  
He didn't know how long they stayed that way, their lips and tongues and souls touching, searching, but he finally pulled away. Amazingly, he still had tears to shed. He looked deep into her clouded and wet eyes. "You should go."  
  
She moved away from him sluggishly, her hand slowly slipping from his grasp. "Tell Dillandau that... that I love him." She muttered, the tips of their fingers touching then slipping away. With that, she left him.  
  
Author's Note: *gives pitiful puppy dog look* Please review! Pleeeasse!  
  
  
  



	17. Default Chapter Title

Leviathan's Daughter  
GoldenEagle  
  
Author's Note: Hey, more! I've had nothing to do all day, so here we go, on with the story! Thanky for the reviews. I'm highly homonal and needed them. These following chapters are starting to focus on the mythology of my story. I kind of have a sequal already forming which will deal greatly with the legend. But, that's still a bit away. On with the story!  
  
Chapter Twenty-Five  
  
She was huddled against a tree, already so far from the floating fortress that it was only a dot in the sky. That is, if you could see it in the sky. It was dark, and, as Folken had promised, he had not come after her. Soon, though, Dillandau or one of the over observant soldiers would realize that she was missing. She had to get away. But where was she to go?  
  
Persephone pulled her form up weakly, cursing herself for being such a fool. To leave so quickly after her recovery? How could she possibly escape Zaibach? Yet she had been pulled, almost unwillingly, from them. She knew that something needed to happen soon, and that it would. Fate seemed to promise her this much.   
  
Her breath was smoke in the air around her and she sighed, her legs stiff and her stomach aching from lack of food. She had also been impulsive enough to forget to bring any water. She growled at her stupidity, before looking to the sky, her old home hanging above her, the same white moon Persephone had grown up accompanying the sphere.   
  
"So," she said loudly and crisply into the air, holding her arms out to no one. "You lead me into the wilderness on pure faith, and now you leave me here? My dear Fate, what a manipulative bitch you've turned out to be!" She yelled out, rage boiling from her, directed at something she couldn't quite catch. She calmed herself and lowered her arms, trudging in what she hoped was the opposite direction of where she had come from.  
  
~What an amusing creature. Perhaps I could have a little fun with you before I devour you, hm?~ Persephone spun around as the voice rumbled through her. On the outside, it was a mere rumbling that shook her ribcage, but in her head, it spoke words.  
  
"Who's there?" She asked of the darkness, drawing her sword. From the shadows stepped a creature, both hideous and beautiful in its magnificence. Ruby scales gleamed in the two moons' light, red eyes focused on her. The creature was enormous, perhaps a few feet taller than an Elephant, but much longer, its sharply tipped tail moving gracefully from side to side. Steam continually seeped from the creature's mouth, and fog seemed to fall off of its body. It was not the same type of dragon which had attacked Folken so long ago. It was more gracefully and beautifully built, scarred yet efficient crimson wings folded against its body. One of the Ancients, her mind told her, though she had no idea what the "Ancients" were. Persephone resheathed her sword.  
  
~Ha! A warrior with a heart, but no brains. And no balls, I see. Hm, a woman. I'm sure her blood will taste the same.~ He growled.  
  
"You would attack me, despite the fact that I have stated my obvious wish for peace. Though a woman, I am sure I can give you a much harder fight than anyone else you have fought thus far." She hissed lowly in the back of her throat.  
  
The dragon tilted its head and she noticed one eye held a long scar over it, showing signs of the slash which had blinded that one crimson orb. ~I have lived for thousands of years, and still survived. I may be far from home, little girl, but that means little to me.~  
  
"I don't care how long you've lived, beast, I will end your life tonight if you push me." She snarled.  
  
The creature looked startled. ~You can truly understand me?~ He asked, blinking.  
  
Persephone gave the creature an odd look. "Of course."  
  
~But... But that is *impossible*.~ The creature sniffed at her in deep, clear breaths. The fowl smelling breath blew Persephone's short hair about wildly around her. The head jerked back suddenly, its eyes widening in a strangely human look. ~No... It can't be.~ He moved his head to the side, his good eye meeting hers. Its pupil flared in a strange dance of colors.  
  
Without Persephone's permission, her eyes lit up, the flame flashing momentarily through them in response. The dragon pulled back before it kneeled quickly, its head to the ground. ~Son... Child of mine... You've returned to me.~  
  
**************  
  
Folken didn't know how to feel, so he just sat, rooted before his paperwork. It could have been hours or only a few minutes that he was that way, his chest feeling empty, cold, lifeless. Someone pushed into the room. He pulled slowly up to see who it was. Dillandau and two of his men strutted in. Folken recognized one of the soldiers as being Langer, the boy he had spoken with at Corinth. "Ah, nothing like the smell of an upcoming battle, hm, Folken?" Dillandau said, mockingly, trying to get to him. "Imagine Fanalia, the dawn after the next, in flames-"  
  
"It's a simple pick up mission. We get the Escaflowne then pull out. Not a battle." Folken said calmly, despite his turbulent spirit.  
  
"Yes, whatever." Dillandau paused with that odd smile, but suddenly frowned, taking in the empty room, besides Folken and his work. "Where's Persephone?" He looked at his superior and noticed his pale complexion, his haunted eyes. A flash of childish panic ripped through Dillandau. "Where is she? Where the hell is she?!" He screamed.   
  
"She left." Folken said plainly. The boy stared at him and Folken could see the conflicting emotions in his eyes.  
  
"She left? What do you mean, she left?" Dillandau's hurt rage had made his eyes shift into that ruby red and he lifted his hand, ready to hit Folken for his treachery.  
  
Folken caught the boy's wrist easily, a cold fire burning in his gaze. "You will never again raise your hand to me, Dillandau. You hear me?" He said coldly.  
  
The teenager jerked away, his wrist ripped from Folken's grasp. "She left me." He hissed and moaned at the same time. "Sister left. Just like... Just like..." Folken was slightly taken back by the tortured insanity in Dilandau's eyes. "I thought... She... She hates me. She hates me!" He murmured in a mad daze.  
  
"No, she loved you. That was the last thing she spoke of. Her love for you." Folken said quietly.   
  
Dillandau growled before laughing. A cold, mechanical laugh. "It's no matter that she does not care for me. No matter that she's turned against me. I'll... Why, I'll just kill her!" Folken's gaze snapped up, but he didn't have a chance to say anything before Dillandau was out the door, his men following him, though Langer seemed a little reluctant.  
  
Persephone's voice filtered through Folken's memories. '...Dilandau will kill me. I know he will. I can feel it. Maybe not today or within the next year, but in the end, it will be him.'   
  
Chapter Twenty-Six  
  
Leviathan, for that was the creature's name, had flown Persephone far above the land, and even farther away from the fortress. She had clinged to his scratched and scarred back, trying to avoid getting cut by its sharp scales. When they had at last landed, she was exhausted from the long flight, but also extremely thirsty. The area of woods which they had landed in was beautiful and lush and green, but there were few creatures that dare wander into the dragon's territory. There was a clear stream, moss and ferns growing at its side. She sank before it and cupped the water to her lips, drinking fully.  
  
The dragon waited patiently behind her, sitting much like a loyal dog may, the crest on its forehead gleaming in the dim light. Persephone stood, so tired she could hardly do so, but her curiosity got the best of her. "Leviathan. I've heard that name before. I grew up in the Church of Christ. I read of a creature named Leviathan in the Bible. A creature that no man could kill or tame, which shot fire from its mouth. Are you...?'  
  
The dragon chuckled. ~I imagine so, perhaps. I am from the Old World. I was there at its beginning. I came here when that planet died.~  
  
Persephone looked at him strangely. "Died? But Earth is a very lush planet in many places."  
  
~Yes, I imagine so. But the soul of it died, faded away. Sickness and disease and constant death fell upon the Old World. Gaea has not yet died.~  
  
She glanced at him in confusion. "But, there is disease and death on Gaea, too."  
  
Leviathan gave a heavy sigh before moving from his sitting position to a laid out position in front of her. ~Yes. Gaea is dying, just as the Old World did. If only the other Three were still alive... Both worlds would be restored.~  
  
"I don't understand."  
  
~You don't know the story of Atlantis?~ He asked, slightly surprised.  
  
Persephone spoke through a yawn. "No."  
  
~Hm. Well, in the beginning, the beginning of all things that are now and that will ever be, there was the Four. They were appointed to watch over all things. But most of all, the humans. They were the only ones that were allowed to be there for the creation, so they saw how it was done, first hand.~  
  
"So these four, they weren't the creators? They weren't the big power? If they weren't, then who was? God?" Persephone asked, falling down beside the dragon comfortably, staring up at the stars.  
  
A smile crossed his scaled lips. ~Yes, though he had a different name at the time. The Four were the most powerful of his creations. Seraphim of the elements. Water, wind, earth, and fire.~ At the word fire, he glanced over at her. She shivered under his gaze. ~There were other angels, as you humans call them, but of weaker form. Sent out among the humans. Though the Creator made them immortal and lacking nothing, the Four had hearts and grew fond of the humans.~  
  
Persephone's eyes widened. "You mean-"  
  
~The blood of the gods and man intermingled. Through this blood was born your line, and in the end, you. You are a descendent of the Four. You do not hold the immense power they had, but you do hold a power stronger than any other creature. Plus, you are the last. The last remnant of the Four.~ He said, a pinch of regret and sadness in his voiceless voice.  
  
She had a hard time swallowing, her face pale. "You're telling me that I'm a goddess?"  
  
~Yes.~ He said plainly. ~There were a few of the lower ranked angels who did the same. And so was born the Draconian line, far weaker than you, but still holding small pieces of their ancestry. The Four soon were called to only protect these few from the growing violence of the humans. And so rose Atlantis, the hidden city. But when the earth died, the city and her secrets started to die along with it. And that is when the Four sought refuge beyond the grasps of mankind, on a land no one could possible hope to find. They brought the humans they trusted with them, along with creatures which were fading from the Old World. And so the restless found refuge among the stars on the planet created by the Four.~  
  
Persephone let out a shaky sigh. "Gaea."  
  
~Yes~  
  
Author's Note: The next section will go on with the legend and we may even see a little bit of Van&Company. Oh, and thanx soooooooo much for the reviews. It's the only thing that gets me through the day *sigh*. j/k  
  



	18. Default Chapter Title

Leviathan's Daughter  
GoldenEagle  
  
Author's Note: Another chapter! This was written when I should have been doing homework and sleeping. Oh well. This is pretty short, because I believe the next chapter may be a bit long. It should have the original hero's in it, I imagine. Anyways, this is still basically the story of the Four, so it's mostly the legend. Besides that, nothing new.  
  
Chapter Twenty-Seven  
  
"So, you're telling me that these four angels/gods created an entire world?" Persephone asked, not quite believing it.  
  
Leviathan chuckled. ~You seem to be forgetting the fact that they had seen the whole thing done before, and that they were probably the second most powerful beings to ever have existed.~  
  
"Yeah, but still..."  
  
~Do you want to hear the rest of the story or not, child?~ Leviathan asked, his exhaustion getting the better of him momentarily. She merely nodded mutely, though he couldn't see her. But he sensed her response and continued on. ~Despite the desperate flee from the Old World, a piece of a great evil that had built there and killed its spirit had followed, for in the heart of every man hides this poison. A group rose up and overthrew the Four. Scattered them and left only the descendants alive, somehow killing the true Four. Gaea suffered greatly from this. It is then that Gaea started to follow the fate of earth, dying quietly. Most of the descendants were killed, and the Draconians hid their wings, until there were only four mortal descendants left. The prophecies had foretold of the Four that remained. The line of the Fourth was crippled badly, and a dark magic, or perhaps a disease, seeped into that blood line. The flame within him died, threatening to destroy the only chance at peace we had left. If one died, then it was all over. Restoration would be lost, and it was believed that a chain reaction would bring down each and every one of the Four. And then, Gaea would die completely.~  
  
"But... You said I'm the only one left."  
  
~Yes. You are. But back at this point in the story, all Four were still alive, though mortal, though weak. And, as I said, the Fourth line had been defiled. This is when I come into the story. I was created at the beginning, along with the first humans. I was meant to be a protector, of sorts. I had a small roll, considering the Four took care of everything, but it was still a roll I held with pride. When the Four took to Gaea, I followed. On the Old World, I was being hunted, and I knew that if the humans had the power to destroy Atlantis, they had the power to mutilate me. Once on Gaea, I could do little against the evil that had erupted. Many of my kind were destroyed. Many ceased to exist. And all those born afterwards were slow beasts, little intelligence in them, savage creatures. But when the Fourth was injured, his flame snuffed out, pathetically human, and a dying one at that, I took care of him. And I breathed into him my life, my fire, my blood. He became of my flesh. He became my son.~   
  
"You called me your son. You called me your child." Persephone said, breathless.  
  
A smirk crossed the Ancient's face. ~Sorry, I was... Taken back. See, this boy became my family, his fire, his power rekindled by my life. He left after he recovered. He promised to return. He never did. Instead, he took pride in the dragon blood within him, though it was so small a thing compared to the real blood in his veins. And that evil that was utterly human, that poison that had twisted the species, grew strong in him. He went mad. He destroyed the Third. He wrote Gaea's, and the Old World's, doom in stone. He betrayed me.~ Persephone felt sick suddenly, as if the very words were horrible, the very thought of this murder unthinkable. Leviathan turned his head towards her and a full, hopeful, dragon smile crossed his lips. ~But, see, he didn't return to me, but you did. You, my daughter, have found me once more. And it is good, too. For the life that I put in your line was hard to obtain, and once I opened the door of that immortal power, it could not be shut. My life has been leaking from me for hundreds of years, ever since I saved your line, a constant stream, though small.~  
  
A cold chill bolted through Persephone and she sat up, looking at the great and beautiful creature in the eyes, though one of his was clouded by blindness. "What do you mean?"  
  
~I am dying, Daughter.~  
  
**********  
  
Despite Persephone's earlier yearning for sleep, she could not find rest. She was pushed against his stomach, him on his side. The warmth that radiated from Leviathan's body kept the cold away and gave her time to think. It was hard to imagine the turns of events that had brought her thus far. From earth to Zaibach to the warmth of a dying dragon. Looking back on her life, she knew that Earth had never been her home. Her family, as she had called it, had been a lie. They gave her love, yes, and they died trying to save her, but they weren't her flesh. They weren't her destiny.  
  
Her mind floated gently back to the Zaibach floating fortress, to a sleeping, momentarily peaceful Dillandau and a stern, heartbroken prince. 'Folken...' She shivered, despite her warmth. She needed him. She belonged with him. She sighed and bit her lip, only to be reminded of their kiss. God, she was losing it. No. No, she would be strong, she would be-  
  
But a sudden sadness hit her and she closed her eyes, tears seeping through. She knew some of the anguish was coming from an outside influence. 'Folken. Oh, God, Folken. You went through with it. You're attacking Fanalia.' And it was true, for she could feel his pain, his brokeness, and she could see, playing out on the back of her eyelids, a city covered in fire. Dillandau had struck again.  
  



	19. Default Chapter Title

Leviathan's Daughter  
GoldenEagle  
  
Author's Note: Again little sign of Van&Company in this one, but I promise he shows in the next one! These chapters aren't as action packed as the last few, but Folken's scene has later importance, and Leviathan does mention something important about Zaibach in one sentence. Plus, it kind of works with the character's a bit, so... Anyways, hope you guys enjoy!  
  
Chapter Twenty-Eight  
  
It had been a few weeks since Persephone had left, since the attack on Fanalia. No signs of the girl had been given. Zaibach and Persephone had not even touched in the slightest way since her escape. But things would soon change.  
  
It was a caravan, a group of traveling merchants. Among their group they carried objects that they were to deliver to many different countries. It was fairly large, twenty to thirty people in the group. But despite their size, they didn't even catch sight of her sneaking in.  
  
Persephone followed the shadows of the forest, drifting closer to the group. With a graceful and silent leap, she landed in one of the wagons. Immediately she searched out food or weapons, anything that would be of importance to her. "What do you think you're doing here?" A gruff voice asked from behind her. She jumped and turned, only to find a blade pressed at her throat. The man in front of her was ugly and large, a few teeth missing. "You think you're going to steal some of our cargo, hm, little girl?"  
  
"Damn," she said plainly. "Now I'm going to have to kill you." And she did so, quickly, silently, and efficiently. She had learned the value of secrecy since she had joined Leviathan and his lifestyle. One pair of curious eyes could get you killed.  
  
Persephone delved in immediately, grabbing the exotic and life sustaining food within the pile. Caviar, foreign cheeses, chocolates... It didn't matter. Leviathan could go months without food, which was good, because he couldn't afford to go out a lot. But Persephone needed this food, and she wouldn't risk Leviathan for herself. These delicacies would have to last her.  
  
After hoarding all the food she could fit into her bag, she searched for weapons. She found a beautiful golden bow and silver arrows, but passed it by quickly. Even if she did know how to use it, it was more of an art object than a weapon. The bow would be too solid and heavy to manage, the arrows would hold no real accuracy or power. She set her eyes on a long, curved blade, light but of good metal.  
  
She turned to leave, wrapping the belt which held the blade's scabbard on it around her waist, when something caught her eye. The slightest ray of light shone through the wagon's covered opening. It fell on a pair of grey, familiar eyes, though only two dimensional. She moved forward silently, stepping over the man's body she had felled earlier. She cocked her head as she took the picture in before pulling out a small dagger and cutting it from its frame and rolling it up carefully. With a final glance around, she was out of the cart, the only sign of her ever being there was the lack of food, a portrait, and one man's life.  
  
**********  
  
Folken sat quietly, going over plan after blue sheet after outline. He took it in with the cold precision one must when their heart is on other matters. A man continued to speak to him, his subconscious picking out little tidbits of information that might be important from the dull words. "As for fatalities in the fifth sector," the voice droned on, "We've only had three. One was lost to a dragon, one was from an earlier infection from a battle wound, and one was killed by most likely a thief while he was guarding some of Zaibach's plunder. As for-"  
  
"What was stolen?" Folken asked, averting his attention momentarily from his work.   
  
"Nothing much, sir. Food, a sword, and a portrait. That's about it."  
  
Folken raised an eyebrow. "That's it? No gold, no other weapons?"  
  
"No, Lord Folken. Most likely it was from a nomadic group. Nothing much would be needed." He said plainly.  
  
"Then why the portrait..." Folken muttered. "What was the portrait of?"  
  
The man sounded annoyed, not finding the importance in the conversation. "I'm not quite sure, Lord Folken. It was taken from Fanalia. Most likely it was a portrait of one of the royal family. That would be my best guess."  
  
"That's all." Folken said, his mind working through the information. The transmission ended. Suddenly, an amused and proud smile crossed Folken's lips.  
  
"So, Persephone. I see you've taken an interest in the arts."  
  
**************  
  
~Hmm. So, Daughter, I see you've brought home a little art.~ Leviathan chuckled, laughter floating through his voice.  
  
Persephone rolled her eyes as she continued to place rocks on the outside edges so the canvas would stay open. She was in a small cave on the Northern boundary of Leviathan's territory. It was one of the only dry places she was sure of that would stay dry. Leviathan leaned over her and let out a hot, steamy breath.  
  
"Hey! Quit that! You'll melt the paint!" She said, a slightly playful tone, but serious none the less.  
  
This made the great dragon chuckle more. ~I was never a fan of the arts.~ The beast turned his head to the side, looking at the portrait with his one good eye. ~Who are they?~  
  
Persephone stared at it quietly for a moment before pointing to the different figures. As she did so, she ate an apple from her sack and spoke. "That," She said between bites. "That is Folken Fanel. He is a good friend of mine, though he's a lot younger in this picture. And that," She pointed to a shorter boy, with black hair. "That must be Van Fanel, his brother. And those two, standing just behind them, must be their parents." She said plainly, a strange smile on her face as she looked at the seemingly happy family. But when she looked up, she saw a deep frown on her companion's scaled face.  
  
~The Fanels of Fanalia. Yes, I know the name well. They send out their young to kill our kind.~ He said disapprovingly, a bit of anger in his voice.  
  
Persephone nodded after looking back down at the picture. "Yes. But Folken is my dear friend, and so his family is my own."  
  
A roaring laughter filled the cave and Persephone turned around quickly, alarmed by the unfamiliar sound. Her face was soon masked with a quizzical expression when she saw Leviathan was the source of the laughter, his great chest shaking. ~Ah, yes,~ he said finally. ~Your "dear friend"!~ The laughing picked up again. ~Anyone would know that he is your lover by the tone you use!~  
  
A deep flush covered Persephone's face and she lowered her head slightly. "He's not my lover. I mean, I *guess* he's my lover, but he's not my *lover* lover..." She muttered, her face still burning.  
  
~Ah, so you haven't been with him yet?~   
  
"It's not your business, but, no. I have not *been* with Folken." She said, raising her head with a defiant look in her eyes, despite the cherry coloring of her cheeks and ears. It matched quite nicely with her hair.  
  
~Ah, sure.~ The dragon said sarcastically.  
  
These accusations were starting to get on Persephone's nerves. "And what do you mean by that?" She asked hotly.  
  
Leviathan smirked down at her. ~Well, it's obvious, to a creature such as myself, that you are no virgin, Persephone.~  
  
A strange pain filled her chest along with hate and bitterness. "Yeah, well, I didn't have much choice in the matter at the time, all right?" She snapped. Immediately she regretted the words. The playful mood of her friend melted into a strange solitude. There was silence in the cave and Persephone fidgeted with the hem of her dirt covered shirt, her eyes roaming her surroundings, falling everywhere but on the magnificent beast.  
  
Finally, her eyes rested on the picture, and she was quite surprised to have all her previous thoughts whisked away as she stared into the eyes of Folken's mother. He had once spoke of love in her gaze, and she could see it through this painting. Most surprising of all was the look was not as unfamiliar as she would have thought. She had seen the very same look cross Folken's face on many occasions. 'Why didn't I see it... Why didn't I see it until it was too late...?'  
  
~He treats you well?~ Leviathan questioned seriously, moving forward and tilting his head to look down at the picture once more.  
  
Persephone's face softened with a sad smile. "He treated me better than I treat myself."  
  
~Then why did you leave?~   
  
She sighed, looking the other way. "I... I really don't know. But I do know that it was right. That I was meant to come here, with you. To find out about my past."  
  
~And now that you know your past, what are you going to do about it?~  
  
"I really don't know." She said honestly. "All I know is that I can't go back to Zaibach now."  
  
The dragon snorted and stiffened. ~Zaibach? You came from that wretched society?~ Leviathan nearly roared.  
  
Persephone flinched. "Yes. I thought you would have known."  
  
~It is Zaibach that threatens Gaea most, Zaibach that seeks to kill her! And your Folken, your perfect lover, stayed behind with them instead of escaping with you?! What affection is this? What sort of blackened love does your lover give you?!~  
  
"Please, Leviathan. Do not be angry! He had to. It was his place, his destiny for the time being. When all is done, he will be here, with me. I know he will. He *has* to." The dragon softened at the girl's tears, the doubt he had planted with his words struggling with her emotions. "I would die for him, and I know he would do the same for me. I love him, so do not think of him with such hatred. Please, Leviathan, my father, do not hurt me so deeply." The tears had come faster and the Leviathan sighed. He gave one final glance at the girl and the picture before her before sighing.  
  
~Alright, Daughter. I have faith in you and your lover.~ He said plainly before turning and exiting the cave, leaving the girl plagued with doubt and loss behind him, her tears falling on the picture of a family captured eternally in a moment when their joy was still strong, before their pain had torn them apart.  
  



	20. Default Chapter Title

Leviathan's Daughter  
GoldenEagle  
  
Author's Note: Boy, this sure did seem to take forever to write! *yawn and stretch* Of cource, it's because I'm exhausted. I use that same excuse if the writing is a little too undreasonable or corny. I'm just so tired! But I'm addicted on writing this story now. Van&Company are here! Yay! But this is another dark chapter *sigh*. So, please read and review. Tell me if it turned out being as stupid as I thought it did.  
  
Chapter Twenty-Nine  
  
Langer, the soldier of Lord Folken and Lord Dillandau, pushed forward quietly. He was searching for her, looking, there to deliver his message. He didn't make it too far into the woods before he was stopped, the point of cold steel pressing against his back.  
  
"Who are you, boy?" A deep and smooth voice asked. Langer had his hands up, his face calm except for the small beads of sweat forming on his brow.  
  
"My name's Langer." He paused a moment before continuing. "I'm a soldier of Zaibach. I come here in search of someone. I'm not here to look for a battle, kind sir."  
  
His assailant stepped from the shadows, the moon reflecting off of his long, blonde hair, two crystal blue eyes staring out from behind the strands. Langer recognized his garb as a knight of Austuria. This didn't help put his fears at ease. "Perhaps you should come with me."  
  
*********  
  
Graceful and callused hands ran through the strange bag, pulling out contraptions not of Gaea. One item fell out and the thief leaned over, examining the strange, black box which read "Discman' on the front. A fire flickered farther away and laughter, along with deep voices, could be heard. The caped figure wasn't expecting too much trouble. Too bad.  
  
"I'd get up real slow if I were you." A boy's voice issued in the darkness. The intruder stiffened and rose, palms up, the straps of the bag wrapped around the left arm. Out of the late shadows stepped a boy, his sword drawn. A red shirt stood out among tan pants as the boy moved forward, his blade swept forward, his shoulders hunched and ready. Raven black hair fell into the boy's face and he stared out through it with a reddening brown gaze.  
  
A sharp yell of laughter broke the boy's attention for a split second, but it was enough. His assailant's hands whipped down even as they stepped back, drawing a long, curved sword. The hood had fallen back from the figure's face and Van, for that is who it obviously was, took a step back, surprised. The moonlight reflected off of his opponent's sword and behind that blade stared two swirling blue eyes, bright against tangled crimson hair. "You're a-a-"  
  
The woman smirked. "A girl? Tsk, tsk, Van. I never imagined you to be such a sexist." And with that, she struck.  
  
****************  
  
It was the sound of metal hitting metal that cut through the men's laughter. Those who were still caught in their conversations were quieted quickly. A silence issued through the camp as they listened momentarily to the song of blade hitting blade. The outsider, the boy Allen had found, went stiff quietly, recognizing the pattern of the clanging. He knew it as her signature dance, her signature moves. He stood quickly, glancing in the direction of the noise. The two that he knew were most likely sent to watch over him stood, too, keeping an eye on him. It was the cat girl that spoke and broke the stunned silence, sending everyone into motion.  
  
"Lord Van!"  
  
******************  
  
Van stumbled back tiredly, gasping for breath, sweat dampening his clothes. He still kept his sword ready. He had learned very fast not to underestimate the girl who stood before him. Despite his tiring state, he noticed that she was just now getting a warm glow to her cheeks, just now getting warmed up. She moved forward again, her blade flashing in the moons' light. He blocked the blow, if only barely.  
  
Persephone knew full well that what she was doing was stupid. She was scaring the boy out of his wits, but having a great time doing so. Hurt Folken's brother? She would never dream of doing such a thing! But after spending hours upon hours on training Dillandau, she had learned how to look for skill. And she was by nature very curious. In her mind, she had forced Van into a duel, a playful one for her. She wanted to test his strength and her own. She wanted to see how she added up to him. His skill was very advanced, but still he put too much weight forward, struck a little too slowly when he charged, and didn't know how to breath efficiently. He was already out of breath.  
  
Their swords crashed together, sending sparks in the air, and they held it that way for a second, faces inches apart. Van's face was pulled into a snarl, Persephone's into a mischievous grin. Something in the back of her mind stirred, her instinct warning her. 'You're playing with fire, Persephone dear. And you know what happens when you play with fire-'  
  
"Yeah, yeah." She muttered to herself as she pulled away. "I'll get burnt."  
  
Her eyes fluttered away for a millisecond as she saw a large group of people approaching. "Shit!" She yelped as something bit into her left shoulder. She looked up, seeing Van pull away quickly, her blood on his sword. This time she returned his snarl, but it was more for her own petty pride.  
  
**********  
  
Allen and his men stood and watched the fight, wondering momentarily if they should interfere. Langer noticed the other of the two girl's emerald eyes fill with concern, but obviously this Schezar character was going to let the prince finish the fight. Langer knew full well who the boy was for he had become number one on Dillandau's "to get" list after he slashed up his face. He paused a moment before speaking reassuringly, mostly for the blonde haired girl who looked so worried. "She won't hurt him." He stated bluntly.  
  
An immense amount of gazes turned to him, questioningly. "Why do you say that?" Allen questioned.  
  
Langer sighed in exasperation. "Because, she has a special interest in him. Plus, if she had wanted to kill him by now, he would have been dead without a fight. Trust me." Langer's mind wandered back to Corinth, the flames and absolute death. "I would know."   
  
A louder ring than before vibrated through the air, and the men's attention was drawn back. The curved blade gleamed as it spun through the air, landing a few feet away from the two standing in the empty meadow. The cloaked figure raised her hands in defeat, a small smile playing across her lips.  
  
"It looks like Van took your girl quite easily, if you ask me." One of the men said with a mocking smirk on his face.  
  
If this man's grin had been prideful, Langer's was even more so. "And I'd say you were mistaken." Before anyone could answer, the swordless figure moved with quiet accuracy, the tables turned once more.  
  
**************  
  
Persephone's hands shot out and gripped Van's wrists before he could react. A look of defeat crossed his face as she twisted his hand so that the blade was pressed against him, the metal threatening to cut into him. Her grasp was too strong for him to fight back, and her face moved forward in the moonlight. He could hear the shouts of his comrades as they rushed forward to stop her, but he knew they would come to late. He closed his eyes, expecting to feel the sharp kiss of his sword-  
  
Instead he felt a different kiss, a soft, expressive thing against his forehead. His eyes shot open and he saw her before him, felt her lips between his eyebrows, a sisterly and foreign touch. Van let out a trembling breath, in half relief, half astonishment. She pulled away and looked him in the eyes, only inches away. Her eyes were a sea of blue, drowning his soul in its waves-  
  
Someone pulled her from him quickly and she let out a loud hiss as they gripped her cut shoulder and hauled her away from him. She struggled against their grasp, writhing and growling as any animal would. Van lowered his sword slowly, his body drooping from exhaustion.  
  
"Lord Van! Lord Van! Are you all right?" Merle ran forward and encompassed him in an exuberant embrace. Van didn't say anything, but turned his eyes up. Hitomi met his eyes and smiled softly. He felt his heart miss a few beats before he returned her smile, gazing back.   
  
"I'm fine." He said to both, quietly.  
  
"Shit, she bit me!" One of the men yelled out. Merle slid off of Van as he turned quickly, taking in the chaos behind him. The girl, his opponent, was struggling out of the soldier's grasps. Her eyes were wild, as an animal's may be who has just been caught in a trap. Several of the men were on the ground, struggling to get up as more were toppled over by her.  
  
She bolted away from their grasp suddenly, grabbing Hitomi's bag with her as she ran, holding her blade in the other hand, still drawn. Van stepped forward, his sword ready and waiting in his hands again. But one of the soldiers barreled into the girl and she toppled over, landing on Hitomi.   
  
Everything fell apart from there. Hitomi cried out, the blade in Persephone's grasp cutting deep into her right leg. Persephone stumbled backwards, dropping the bag and her bloody sword in shock. It was unintentional, but it was what caused everything to go wrong.  
  
Van could see Hitomi's blood, hear her scream still echoing through his mind, even as people gathered around her. A battle cry broke through his lips as he ran forward, his sword lifted. Persephone turned quickly and jumped back as the blade swung forward, far out of its reach. But it didn't look that way from afar, and before anything could be said, Langer was in front of Persephone, taking on a death that wouldn't have touched her. Van's blade hit flesh, cutting deeply into Langer's stomach. A strange stillness and silence was bestowed upon the scene as the Zaibach soldier stood there for a few seconds, his face going pale. Van's sword was slick with his blood as it dropped from his grasp onto the green grass below him.  
  
Langer fell to his knees, his intestines and stomach falling through the gash in his stomach. The soldier looked to them numbly, as if he couldn't believe they were his as he fell to his back. Horror clenched Van's chest, but it was not even close to the feelings that were crashing over Persephone.  
  
Persephone stood for a moment, her eyes wide with horror, a simple fraze repeating itself over and over again in her mind as she watched the boy who she had befriended before the battle at Corinth fall before her. 'If you play with fire... If you play with... Play with fire... Fire...' Tears burst from Persephone, a loud sob, as she fell to her knees by the boy. He looked up at her with strangely clear eyes as he spoke. "Hey, Persephone." He said quietly, sadly.  
  
"Langer, you damn fool." She choked out through sobs. "You fucking fool. Why did you come? Why the hell did you come?"  
  
Langer smiled a faint smile. "He sent me here, to deliver a letter." He used a shaking hand to pull out a letter from his cloaks. The letter was stained with his blood. "Sorry about that." Langer muttered, as if it were no big deal. A strange shutter ran through him and he realized that he was dying. "My loyalty is to you, and Zaibach." He said, trying to comfort her. A few faces appeared above her, Allen's men pushing forward. "He loves you. Remember that." Langer muttered, his thoughts starting to wander.  
  
"No you don't, Langer." She hissed. "It was just a game. No one dies over a game. You hold on, you hear me?" Her voice had gone cold though her tears still fell.  
  
He focused back on her and frowned, death pushing at the edges of his vision. "Calm down, Persephone." He said quietly, noticing the tremors rising in her. Fear gripped at him. "Calm down." But despite his words, her body betrayed her, going into convulsion, jerking violently. The men above her caught her form as it fell from the seizure and Langer felt himself drifting off, far away. He left life with few regrets.  
  
Author's Note: So, how terrible was it? *grimaces* I, personally, didn't like it for some reason. Maybe it wasn't smooth enough for me or something. Anyways, please review!  
  



	21. Default Chapter Title

Leviathan's Daughter  
GoldenEagle  
  
Author's Note: I figured out why I didn't like the last chapter! Too many charectors. I have a hard time knowing what to do with them, so I struggled with more than I enjoyed that chapter, merely because I'm only used to one to three people in one scene. In these chapters, it's nothing too special to me. We see some of Millerna and Allen, and a final decision by Persephone. Hopefully, the next chapters will hold more interest. I plan on having some charecter hang time in the next few chapters before closing the story with the final climaxes. Anyways, I'm saying too much. Read and Review! Toodles!  
  
Chapter Thirty  
  
"I'm gone for one day on business, and you're already getting into trouble? My gods, Allen, you would think that a knight with such a reputation as yours could hold it together for a few hours." Millerna muttered, her quick and powerful strides keeping a good pace for the knight at her side. "Where are Van and Hitomi and that cat girl?" She asked as they turned a corner, heading towards the cell where the strange girl was being kept in on Allen's ship, the Crusader.  
  
"Van and Merle are with Hitomi. We've cleaned the wound in her leg, but you are going to need to stitch it up." Allen replied calmly.  
  
Millerna waved her hand dissmissively. "First I'd like to meet this prisoner of yours, Allen. I'm very curious in seeing who and how he is." They approached a thick steel door, a guard standing outside of it. He gave a jerky bow to the princess and the knight, although his face held a grin that didn't quite go with it. Millerna frowned.  
  
"How do you do, Princess?"  
  
"Fine, fine." She waved away his politeness. "How's the boy doing?"  
  
"She's awake, but not responsive."  
  
"*She*?!"  
  
"Oh, I must have forgotten to mention that small fact..." Allen muttered, the ghost of an amused smile on his face.  
  
"Don't play your games with me, Allen Schezar." Millerna said disapprovingly as they walked through the doors. She surveyed the dark room, a strong set of bars rising up before her, deep shadows on the other side. Besides the two men on the inside who had just risen to greet them, there was no one in the room. Millerna turned, hands on her hips. "What? Another trick of yours? And I suppose this *invisible* little girl of yours struck Hitomi with an *invisible* sword. I should just go back to Austuria, if this is all the respect I get-"  
  
Allen placed two soft fingers over her mouth as he pushed by her, making her face redden and her mouth go silent, even as they slid back away. The knight was frowning now. "Where is she?" He asked.  
  
One of the men smiled. "You have to look real close for her, boss. She likes to hide in the shadows." Allen raised a delicate eyebrow at this before grabbing a flaming torch from the wall and stepping closer to the bars, but he was stopped by a heavy hand on his shoulders. The man who had just spoken stared back at him when he turned his head. "I wouldn't get too close, if I were you. She seems to be quite unpredictable."  
  
Allen shrugged him off before stepping forward once more, his eyes and ears more alert. The flame of the torch swept through the darkness, and in the corner, huddled against the wall, he saw a small form, curled into a protective ball. She reminded him of a small child, terrified and hiding. "Why, she's just a child." Millerna said from right behind him. Not a second had passed after her words left her lips when there was a flash of movement and she was pulled against the bars. "Allen!" She cried out in fear as her face pressed against the cold steel, inches away from two flaming eyes.  
  
His hand shot forward and gripped one of the girl's wrists tightly, the torch hitting the metal floor and going out. A warning signal lighted in his eyes. Two flaming orbs met his and it was all he could do to meet her gaze without turning away. Within those depths was pain and bitterness, loss and defeat. Those emotions threatened to tie him down, destroy his confidence.  
  
"My gods, child." Millerna finally muttered. The captive's gaze flashed back to its original position, meeting the princess's eyes once more. "What happened? You're shaking like a leaf!" Allen glanced from Millerna to the girl and he suddenly realized she was right. The red haired girl was shaking to the point that she almost couldn't stand, her face deathly pale besides a fevered blush in her cheeks, a cold coating of sweat across her skin. Millerna's face softened. "Let me help you-"  
  
The other girl jerked away quickly, letting go of the princess, pulling from Allen's grasp. She looked down, stumbling backwards and pressing herself against the wall as she slid down, her quaking forcing her to the steel floor. Her eyes could suddenly be seen again, the fire gone, replaced with a refreshing, blue color. "There's nothing you can do for me." She whispered out through chattering teeth. "It- It will pass. I just need a li-little ti-ime." She looked up at Allen after the silence had gone on for a few more moments. "The le-letter. Where's my letter?" The knight paused a moment before pulling the blood stained paper from his shirt. "You haven't re-read it, have you?" She stuttered.  
  
"No. It's yours, and only yours to read." He replied calmly. He held the object out, his hand reaching though the bars. She looked at him hesitantly before dashing forward, grabbing the letter from his grasp, and disappearing into the shadows once more, again invisible to all of those on the outside.  
  
****************  
  
Persephone couldn't stop the shaking, the cold waves of ice that consumed her. She just stared down, in the shadows, her eyes, which were beyond human, cutting through the darkness easily. The note lay before her, unopened. But how could she read? How could she read when her thoughts were in a million different places? Her guilt hanging over a boy's body, a body that would have grown old, had a long life to live. Her joy a momentary spark, her soul too soaked with tears to be caught ablaze by that strange fire. And her heart? She smiled bitterly at this, but the twitching in her face twisted it and jerked about her features. She let it slip without a fight. Her heart, that strange thing that she had forgotten she had for so long, was hanging in the grasps of a strategist far away, who was planning out the entire death of Gaea. She didn't want to open the letter. Leviathan's accusation were rushing through her. *~...And your Folken, your perfect lover, stayed behind with them instead of escaping with you?! What affection is this? What sort of blackened love does your lover give you?!~'   
  
'No, no, no...' her mind moaned. 'It wasn't, wasn't his fault. He had to stay. He'll return. He has to. I think he loves me... I think...' She felt dead already, everything piling on her. She remembered back to that night she left, him crying for her, but refusing to try to stop her. 'But he had... He was too strong to say the words, or too weak, perhaps, but he felt them.'  
  
'How can you be so sure?' her mind asked her. The doubt plagued her.  
  
'He came to rescue me.' A memory of his kisses on her face, his hands in her hair.  
  
'Rescue you! Ha! And where was he the first time? Did he come in search of you then? Did he feel you scream at their touches, and do nothing? You felt when he lost his arm, but he felt nothing when you lost your innocence? What love is this?!' Persephone's shaking increased, another wave of cold sweat crashing over her.  
  
'He- he sent someone out here, to speak to me...' Her being said reluctantly, doubtfully. Her mind flashed on the dead boy's features, his words of his loyalty.  
  
'But he did not come himself? Let the child take his place, let the child die a lover's death, let the child spill the blood that should have been his-'  
  
'All the things I've done, no matter how good the intention was, all leads to this death. To this meaningless and crushing slaughter. All these people's blood, all of your tears, all are on my hands...' she muttered through her soul weakly the words she had once spoke to Folken.  
  
'Yet he continues to lead the slaughter. He's a monster! He once loved Fanalia, and it is now in flames. He claims to love you. Will he destroy you in the end, too-'  
  
'No!' Her mind cried. 'No! I love him! And just as I love Dillandau, despite the fact that he will kill me, I will love him. Whether it is returned or not, it matters little. I love him! I love him!' And with that, she broke from her mind, her body shaking worse than before. She reached forward and ripped open the letter, desperate to find words that would revive her soul. Desperate to grasp what little hope she had left before she lost complete sanity.  
  
Chapter Thirty-One  
  
Even though the letter lay open, it took Persephone a while to gain the courage to read it. Several times she had to squint down at it to make out the words in the fine, delicate handwriting through the bold and screaming crimson of Langer's blood.   
  
**************  
  
Hey, Perseph.  
  
If you're reading this, then it means that Langer has accomplished his mission. I've grown fond of the boy, but don't tell him so. I'm afraid he'd be a little overwhelmed. He has a kind spirit and is a small light among the darkness that seems to reign here. Speaking of Zaibach, things are speeding up. Conquest is making us stronger. Dillandau has become obsessed with my brother, wishing him only to have a slow, painful death. Stay away from Dillandau under all circumstances. Even I cannot hope to save you if you fall into his clutches.  
  
As for my brother... I'm not quite sure what has befallen him. I have spoken with him many times. You were right. He hates me. I can't help but grasp desperately at the hope that Zaibach's purpose is not as twisted and poisoned as it truly is. Our goal is for peace over all Gaea, but I don't understand how we can accomplish such a thing by using the methods that pollute our planet. We can't fight fire with fire. My only hope is that my brother, Van, will join me. Perhaps we can help lead Zaibach to its true cause.  
  
And I know you know I'm merely lying to myself.  
  
The cause has been lost. I want to see you again, feel you again. Despite my acknowledgment that Zaibach is truly lost, I can't turn back. As you said, it is my destiny. I can't help but try. If you were here, I'd be stronger. If you were here, I'd see the truth. But if you were here, you would die, slowly, as I feel the very same thing happening to me. You once said, back before the Battle of Corinth, that we should get out sometime, away from Zaibach for a few days, just the two of us. And now you're gone, and I'm here, and I can't leave, but I can't let go. I promised I wouldn't try to stop you, but in a since, I lied. Come back. Just as hope desperately for Zaibach to be something that it's not, I hope vainly for your return though I know you will not come back to me. I feel like, now, when there is so much to say, I'm rendered mute, silent. I can't find the words. Will you forgive me for being a fool? Will you forgive me for being weak? I'd like to say that I love you, but the words are bitter. I feel like a hypocrite, torn between my true love and my sure end, and choosing the one that will lead to my destruction. But I need you to believe in me. Don't lose faith in me, Persephone. You're the only person I have, even though you're no longer with me.  
  
With all my love,  
  
Folken Strategos  
  
******************  
  
After Allen and Millerna had left the room, one of the guards had been relieved of duty. Only one stood behind, his head jerking up ever so often as he woke himself. It was the frustrated yell, much like a roar, really, that woke him fully nearly an hour later. He stood quickly, drawing his sword.  
  
The honesty of the note hurt Persephone, stung her, cut into her like no blade of metal could. A cry issued her lips as she gripped the paper, her fingernails digging into it, crumpling it. But she couldn't completely destroy it, just as she couldn't dismiss the truths. And yet, with the painful confrontation over, a strength of independence, a strength she had lost when she had first opened to Folken, returned. It was colder, a thing that ate at her soul, but it made her feel more stable, less emotional. He wouldn't come back to her. He had chosen a slow death over her love. And the name he used at the end: Strategos. Another sign among many, all of the pointers suggesting the same thing. She had truly lost him. He loved her? What did it matter? Love was not enough in times like these. A person could have love and still fall, yet have hate and stand strong. Persephone had to stand strong. She had to. She was the last of her kind, the ultimate turning point in the fate of Gaea. Love alone is nothing without the right components. There was no turning back now, no fairy tale endings. There was only fire and tears and blood. There was only war and strength. Nothing else mattered in times such as these. Not faith, not hope, not even love.  
  
"Ma'am, are you all right?" The guard from outside the bars asked. Persephone looked up, her tremors now gone. Instead within her eyes there was that fire, though it held a colder note to it. The man backed up slowly as he sensed her intentions.  
  
"I'm fine." She replied calmly. "Just a little tired of being cramped up in here." With that she gave a lithe stretch, her back popping. With a simple command of will, the fire of Atlantis that burnt within her came forth, melting metal and steel before her, sending the man screaming and yelping out of the room in search of his superior.  
  
Author's Note: Please review! And, answering a question from one of my reviews, Persephone's only like twenty-one or twenty-two at this point. I messed up a bit and Folken's younger than he is in the series. Oops. But she's a year younger than him in this writing. If I kind of give the impression that she's a child in some of these chapters, it's mostly to show her instability and vulnerability at the time...  
  



	22. Default Chapter Title

Leviathan's Daughter  
GoldenEagle  
  
Author's Note: We have some Allen in this chapter. Yes, yes, I did pick up some unknown fondness of him at some point, and so he's here. Maybe he's out of charecter a bit, but the changes are for the best, I must assure you. I'm tired of he being such a perfect moron! Anyways, nothing that much happens here. Toodles!  
  
Chapter Thirty-Two  
  
"How are you feeling?" Millerna asked as she finished cleaning Hitomi's wound, which was now stitched up.  
  
The green eyed girl looked up with a weak smile. "Okay. It really doesn't hurt that much. Honestly." She added, glancing past the princess at the three people behind her. Van stood with his arms draped across his chest, a distracted look filling his eyes. Merle was fidgeting, not used to the heavy silence, and Allen was leaning against the far wall, looking at her with his full attention. She sighed. Of course Allen would look at her like that. It was the gentle man like thing to do. "How's the other girl?" Hitomi asked after a short session of silence. She noticed Van stiffen and look at her, as if the very mention of his past opponent put him at ill ease.  
  
Millerna glanced at Allen helplessly, but the knight only raised an eyebrow. "Well, um, she's okay, I guess. A little shocked, a little withdrawn, but-"  
  
As if on cue, the doors to the room burst open and in stumbled Allen's guard. The guard that was to be watching over the prisoner. He had black smudges of ash against his cheeks and some harsh burns covering his face. He was shaking and his eyes were wide in panic. "She's escaped! She's out!" Immediately, Allen had gone from fairly laid back to complete attention.  
  
"What do you mean? You were supposed to be watching her!"  
  
The man started shaking with fear. "Boss, you don't understand... She's not even human... She's a demon!"  
  
"Where is she?" Van asked, his hands twitching involuntarily, itching for the handle of his sword.  
  
"I don't know." The poor guard said. "She's probably gone by now. I'm sorry, Boss, but I tried." He looked up shamefully to his superior. The blonde man merely smiled encouragingly and laid a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"She's still here." Everyone looked over at Hitomi, who had momentarily been forgotten. She glanced up with her emerald eyes. "She won't leave. She's here. She'll show, sooner or later."  
  
After her words had ceased, Allen ordered his men to search for the prisoner on the Crusade. After all, she had to be there. Somewhere.  
  
****************  
  
Despite nearly an hour of searching over the entire ship, no sign of the girl was found. That is, besides the melted and twisted metal where she had escaped from. No one even wanted to think about how she had done that at the moment. "We're not going to find her." Allen said wearily when the small group had reformed after the exhausted search. "She's gone."  
  
"But, I was-" Hitomi suddenly noticed the sleeplessness that was written on Allen's face. Though "Heavenly Knight" he may be, he was still mortal. He was still human. Hitomi spoke quietly. "You should get some rest. We should *all* get some rest." Merle let out some animal noise of joyful agreement to this suggestion before they all agreed, heading off to their different sleeping chambers.  
  
Allen was surprised by how quickly he fell asleep. He had felt a certain weariness, sure, but not this sudden exhaustion. As soon as he reached his bed, he was asleep, not even bothering to remove his belt and scabbard.  
  
He wasn't sure if it was the soft touch on his face, brushing away his perfect hair, or his own premonition that woke him up moments later. He bolted up, reaching for his sword as he saw the silhouette of the figure before him. He paused momentarily as he started to take in the feminine features...  
  
A low, warm chuckle met his ears, and his eyes picked up the faintest red glint in the other person's eyes. "Allen Schezar. The Heavenly Knight. And yet, your reputation has exceeded you thus far. You couldn't even master a simple game of hide-and-seek. After waiting long for your men to find me, I grew tired of the game, and came here. I snuck up on you with perfect ease. If my intentions were darker, you would be dead right now."  
  
Allen recognized the mockery in the girl's voice, not as a familiar sound, but a familiar attitude. He let out a sigh. "What is your name?" He asked as he resheathed his sword uncertainly.  
  
"Persephone."  
  
"Well, Lady Persephone, you have caused some unwanted havoc since making your appearance." Allen muttered as he sat up on his bed. She still stood in front of him, not moving since he had first awoken.  
  
He could feel her smirk, though he could not see her face. "Sorry about that. Chaos seems to follow me from place to place."  
  
Allen gathered his confidence and stood before crossing the room, brushing her by. She merely turned her head in the darkness as he added light to the room. When he turned, he momentarily let surprise and shock enter his eyes, but it was too imperfect of a look on his face and was repelled almost immediately.  
  
Persephone stood in one of his long, white shirts, a scabbard on her thigh, though a third of its length was covered by the fabric. But what surprised him the most was that she wore no pants or skirt, only this shirt, which fell a few inches above her knees. She turned to take in his masked expression and gave a wiry smile.  
  
He was astounded even more to find that she was quite beautiful, in a way no other woman he had ever met was. Her strange magnificence wouldn't have been too out of the ordinary without the scars. If her eyes were softer, if her skin didn't hold all those marks, if her hair was better taken care of... She would have been plainly gorgeous. But just that. Plainly. Yet, as her cold blue eyes, sharp like a splinter of glass, stared at him, he realized that what brought out her most astounding and odd beauty was the imperfections. The tension in her body, the scars on her face and arms and legs, the bitter, sardonic smirk... The beauty she had was raw, savage. A true warrior beauty, deadly and unmasked. Allen Schezar had never in all his days seen one thing, one creature, like her. And it left him frozen in awe before a girl that he knew could very well kill him.  
  
"I apologize about my appearance." She said, that smirk still on her face. Allen just stared, still caught unawares by her captivating being. "My clothes were pretty shoddy after the fire, and I came here. I fit in the shirts, but I'm afraid the pants have a little too narrow of a waist on them."  
  
"Shirts? So you've been trying on my entire wardrobe?" He asked, a small smirk on his face as he pulled himself together.  
  
Persephone wrinkled her nose at him. "Wardrobe? You call that a wardrobe? You basically have the same outfit, only different variations."  
  
"It is the proper thing for a knight to wear." Allen replied calmly.  
  
The girl sneered. "The 'proper' thing. Oh, God, I've forgotten how much I despise society." She looked at the knight with a new, disgusted light in her eyes, as if his utter perfection was hideously revolting.  
  
Allen ignored the look and moved forward, a long, black cloak in his hand. Persephone stepped back momentarily, eyeing him wearily. "Relax. I'm just trying to get you covered up." He said in such a voice that one might talk to a small child in. Persephone relaxed slightly, staring at him keenly as he draped the cloak over her shoulders and wrapped it around her. He looked up into her eyes, only about a foot away and smiled. "Would you like to accompany me so that I may introduce you to some of my comrades, Lady Persephone?"  
  
He won an unexpected response as the woman before him tilted her head back and broke into a real, genuine laugh. Though Allen knew it was somehow at his expense, he was relieved by the light hearted tone behind it. Persephone looked at him and smiled a tooth grin, squeezing his cheek in fond amusement with her left hand. "I like you, Allen Schezar. You're a charmer. You're a charmer." Yet, as she stared at him, her gaze lost some of its warm shine. "But, I must warn you, Knight, that I am not a person who is charmed out of their wits. Or heart, playboy." She murmured, taking note of his reputation momentarily before walking past him, leaving him slightly stunned and scathed behind her.  
  
****************  
  
Persephone was uncomfortable by the stares she earned as she walked at Allen's side down the cold hallways. He had already sent a messenger to get the others in his little, personal group, and they were to meet the two wherever they were heading. Persephone glanced sideways at Allen, not even moving her head. She was surprised that, despite her decision to be heartless, she couldn't help but be fond of the knight. She enjoyed his good character, which was a strange thing in days like these. She had to admit that he was very handsome, and something involuntary in her wanted to draw closer to him. Plus, there was a certain familiarness about him, like she had met him before.  
  
She knew very well that she hadn't, but some of his attributes seemed to mirror another's, though she couldn't quite catch who. Whoever it was, she wished she could spit in their face at that moment. Because it was this strange feeling of remembrance that made her want to befriend the knight, and she hated that. He was too damn perfect, which drove her up the wall. He caught her sideways gaze out of the corner of his eye and she sneered slightly, this simple movement annoying her. To make matters worst, he smiled and actually chuckled at her reaction. Laughed at her! Her eyes went wide in rage, but even the knight could see the mixed emotions held there.  
  
Damn him, damn him, damn him! Damn his for his stupid grin, damn him for his stupid character, damn him! Persephone cursed herself and Allen mentally, her fondness of him only growing with each passing insult. She groaned inside. This was going to be a very long day...  
  
Author's Note: Hmm... I bet ya'll are asking what's up between Allen and Perseph. I'm in the mood to write an Allen romance, but I don't really think I want Persephone to fall for him. After all, she's Folken's! But she is far from her love, and very pissed off at him at the moment... *chuckles evilly* We'll just have to see...  
  



	23. Default Chapter Title

Leviathan's Daughter  
GoldenEagle  
  
Author's Note: Hmm. Forgive me if the next few chapters suck. I can rewrite them if I have to. I stayed up writing these chapters like all night long, even though I have school tomorrow. Please, read and review.  
  
Chapter Thirty-Three  
  
The girl stood as four figures entered the room, each freezing at the sight of her. Allen stood by Persephone's side, trying to show the others that he didn't find his companion as alarming as she had appeared to be before. "So you found her." Van muttered darkly as he stepped into the light, the other three following his example. They approached Allen and the red haired girl somewhat reluctantly, throwing cautious glances at the knight. He only gave a slight smile and nodded, expressing to them that all was well.  
  
"It seems that she found me." Allen said, an amused edge in his voice. This only earned him a few doubtful stares and one, fiery, annoyed gaze from the girl at his side. He ignored her continual bouts of mood swings and introduced her as if she were a noble. "This is Lady Persephone, a... strong... woman who has come to visit us on the Crusade. She is to be looked upon as an honored guest-"  
  
"Visit?!" Merle yelped, her self control snapping under her immature impatience. "She nearly killed Lord Van, and she's an honored guest?!" The cat girl was slightly alarmed to receive a cool and expressionless glare from this "Lady Persephone". The blankness of the look was much more alarming than if it had been a look of pure rage.  
  
Persephone stared down at the cat girl coolly, slightly annoyed by her words. Kill "Lord Van"? She glanced at the Prince (King?) carefully. He was staring at her almost as coldly as she was staring at him. Yet he didn't seem to have the same confidence that she mustered. He didn't seem to really know what to feel towards her. Oddly enough, this made her feel better.  
  
But Millerna was a different matter. She recognized the cloak around Persephone's shoulders, she also saw the bare legs that glanced through every once in a while. And it only made the princess grumpy, jealous, and very ill-mannered.  
  
"What ARE you wearing, child?" The woman asked, hands on her hips. Millerna expected the girl, though obviously older than her, to be intimidated by her stance and disapproval, but was embarrassed to find otherwise.  
  
Instead, the guest merely raised an eyebrow before letting the cloak fall to the floor, revealing her long legs and Allen's loose shirt. Persephone stared at the girl challengingly, the princess's eyes going wide, her face developing an angry and embarrassed blush. Merle merely gasped, and Van looked away, a pink adding to his own cheeks. Hitomi just stood there, smiling a bit at the girl's defiance in amusement. And then the girl from the Mystic Moon let out a small laugh as she saw Allen's face fill with embarrassment. Through all of this, Persephone stood there, without shame, without doubt. She was trying to get her way, show that she wouldn't be treated like any other person. She was prideful. She was stubborn. She was the most amusing and amazing person Hitomi had ever laid her eyes on in a very long time.  
  
Allen stooped quickly, grabbing the fallen material and hurriedly placing it back around Persephone's shoulders. Two blue eyes met his own, filled with annoyance and amusement at the same time. All the knight could do was cough, his pale cheeks going redder as her deep eyes met his gaze. "Quite a guest, Allen." Hitomi said, smiling broadly at the girl, but not showing her teeth in the slightest.  
  
Persephone felt odd as she met the girl's gaze. She stepped forward, lightly holding the long cloak around her, for the sake of the poor knight behind her. She approached the girl and she noticed the others near to them grow nervous, fidgety. But not this emerald eyed child. Persephone cocked her head to the side, taking the girl in fully, her strange relaxed attitude, her nonmenacing smile, her odd attire... Where the hell had Persephone seen something like what she wore? So long ago, she couldn't remember. Her first visits to the towns of Gaea, far distant places? She shook her head slightly before speaking.  
  
"Are you all right?" She asked with a tone a commander may use. Hitomi stared at her confused. Persephone rolled her eyes. "Your leg, child. How is it?"   
  
Hitomi gaped at her a moment before smiling, the warm color of a strange, innocent joy filling her cheeks. "Oh, fine. I completely forgot about it!"  
  
Instinctively, the ex-Zaibach warrior laid her hand on the top of the girl's head and gave a small, compassionate smile. "I apologize about that, um...?" Her voice gave hint that she wanted the girl's name. 'I was once like her, long ago, before I lost everything-"  
  
"Hitomi." She said with a shy smile. "My name is Hitomi."  
  
It was like Persephone had run into a brick wall. Her expression faltered, her eyes grew slightly glazed over, her mouth hung open. Hitomi was confused by the look as the girl stepped away, her hand pulled back suddenly.   
  
It took Persephone a few seconds to regain her wits before she realized the look that must cover her face. She jerked her mouth closed and forced her mind to clear, but the thoughts still came. 'It can't be... No the same Hitomi, not the same child...' But it was all too clear and somehow, Persephone felt suddenly relieved, as if she had gained some hope off of the girl. She forced a nervous and shaky smile.  
  
"Hitomi. What a beautiful name."  
  
************  
  
Little was said amongst the group as an hour or two passed. It was obvious that they knew that Persephone was somehow connected to the Zaibach empire. They invited her to find refuge in their ship, but she knew well enough that she was more of a prisoner than anything else. After a small discussion of her allegiances, the others were seeing little hope of any form of trust being placed on her. She was wild, and made it clear that she didn't want to be a servant to anyone, whether to the warriors for Gaea, or for the soldiers of Zaibach. She just wanted to be left alone. And with that on their minds, they left to go back to their own chambers, one of Allen's men leading Persephone to where she would be staying. Coincidentally she was right next door to the Heavenly Knight, so that they could keep a close watch on her. She didn't mind. People always stared.  
  
Author's Note: This one was shorter and not that great, but read and review anyways!  
  



	24. Default Chapter Title

Leviathan's Daughter  
GoldenEagle  
  
Author's Note: I'm too tired to do Author's notes... *groans*  
  
Chapter Thirty-Four  
  
"It's amazing how easily, and often, you seem to lose your prisoners." Millerna muttered coldly and bitterly as their group was back together again, striding quickly down a long hall, in search of the same girl who had disappeared, and reappeared, the night before. Allen couldn't help but feel the slightest pinch of annoyance at the princess.  
  
He had woken that morning only to find that Persephone had gone missing again. Of course, he couldn't hide this fact when he had come to a private breakfast with his friends, the girl neither being there nor with him. "We'll find her." He said through tight lips.  
  
"Why don't you ask someone if they've seen her?" Hitomi asked brightly. Allen stopped so quickly that she almost ran into him. He gave off a big smile.  
  
"Of course."  
  
A pair of green eyes rolled in exasperation. "Just like men..." She muttered. "Never asking for directions..." Van caught her words, but the only reaction it caused was the slightest twitch of his lips in amusement.  
  
Allen grabbed one of his passing men by the arm. "Hey, Yonarin. Have you seen the girl that came in last night? Tall, red haired, blue eyes, and on her left eye-"  
  
"There's a weird feather scar covering it up." The man interupted, laughter in his voice. "Of course I've seen her. You're a little late for the fight, though, Boss."  
  
"Fight?"  
  
"Yes. Your girl has been sparring man after man in the training room, and is still undefeated. If you hurry, you may get to see the end of her and Gadeth's fight. They've been at it for about thirty minutes or so. One of them's bound to lose beat at some point."  
  
Millerna smiled broadly at what she thought would be a good time to get in a few words about their new visitor. "Yes, well, we *all* know who's going to win. After all, Gadeth is well known for his skill."  
  
The man smirked at her. "Yeah, but you haven't seen the way this girl fights. Like a demon, I tell you. Like a dancing flame, she is."  
  
************  
  
Merle wrinkled her nose at the strong smell of sweat that permeated the room. Then she cringed at the loud crashing of metal. She turned her gaze up to see a large group of men, laughing and whooping at something in the center of the tangle. The cat girl followed her friends quietly, too filled with suspense to make much noise.  
  
Allen pushed through his own men, a few of them giving a light hearted greeting. He couldn't help but ignore them as he took in the spectacle within the middle of the crowd.  
  
The men had backed off, leaving a large circle in the center of their mass. And their, circling each other with swords drawn, was Persephone and Gadeth. Allen took the appearance of his man in, his being rushing with surprise. Gadeth was soaked with his own sweat and he was taking in as much air as possible with each short breath. His eyes looked out from beneath raven black bangs as he focused on his opponent. Persephone.  
  
Now, the girl's appearance was similar in condition to his, but there was a certain aura that radiated off of her in waves. There was a pressed smirk on her face, her eyes intent. Sweat soaked the white shirt, Allen's shirt, which she wore, and her suede pants, which she had apparently gotten off of one of the all to eager men, were dark with her perspiration. Her hair hung in wet curls around her red and glowing face. Glowing. Her eagerness lit her face up. But what you could feel was the strongest of all. Their was the feeling of certain conquest, a knowledge that she would win. And their was the mischievous look that danced in her eyes as she moved gracefully and lithely around her exhausted apponent.  
  
Allen didn't even catch sight of when she first moved to attack, but he saw the end result. Metal screamed as the blades hit, the crowd broke into cries of excitement, and Gadeth and Persephone, two warriors with two very different intentions met, eye to eye, as the swords they held screeched and squealed against each other. It was Persephone who pulled back quickly, leaving Gadeth stumbling forward slightly.  
  
It was then that the Demon, as the men called her admiringly, caught sight of the Heavenly Knight and his party, staring at her. She flashed him a wild grin, much like a snarl, before she met her adversary again. Her moves were hypnotic as she raised her curved blade over her head, her body moving in a strange, mystical movement, a dance perhaps, before the graceful smoothness of it released a powerful movement, much like a spring. Persephone's blade flashed in an unexpected direction, taking Gadeth off guard.  
  
Allen's throat clenched as he saw the man raise his sword, too slowly, to fend of the blow. The knight's mind flashed in angered emotion in the millisecond it took for her sword to come down. 'What the hell is she doing?! She's using her blade. She'll kill him!' "Gadeth!" Allen cried out, other voices echoing his as some of the men saw the disaster unveiling before them.  
  
And in the last second, too quickly for an untrained eye to catch, the knight saw the blade turn, hitting the man in the side with flat end. A sigh of relief left the blonde haired man's lips as he saw Gadeth fall, cradling the stinging wound, but not bleeding, not dead. Allen moved forward to his friend, passing a victorious Persephone by without thought. "Are you all right?" he asked the man on the ground before him.  
  
He was astonished to be met with a wide, exuberant grin, though through slight panting. "She's majestic, Allen. A creature of legends." He laughed and coughed at the same time. "Never did I dream of the day when I would be conquered by a woman, Allen. Never did I imagine I'd meet such a being of beauty and raw power."  
  
The knight looked up at the girl above him, her eyes staring down at him in a strange manner, a power hungry smile cracking her face. He shuddered, a strange mixture of fear and lust hitting him. Demon, indeed.  
  
***************  
  
"I want you to come with us to Virdania." Allen said, looking into the reflection of Persephone's eyes in the mirror as she combed out her clean, wet hair. She was wrapped in a robe and had tied it firmly around her slender waste. Allen had been trying to get together and talk with her, but she had been cleaning up, and hadn't wanted to keep the knight waiting longer, so she had asked him to come in, thinking that the man of character could handle talking to her as she finished getting ready.  
  
Yet, at his words, she froze, arms still raised, her brush still in her hair. "Virdania." She said quietly. Why did it sound so familiar? She shrugged and continued on, meeting Allen's gaze in the mirror as well. "Why? What are you doing there that has anything to do with me?"  
  
The knight sighed before explaining, his gaze never leaving hers. "We are seeking a kingdom that may protect us from Zaibach and Asturia, which both are seeking out Van and his guymelef." Persephone paused as she nodded, already knowing of Escaflowne. She continued on. "On the outskirts of Virdania, there is to be a small festival. The king of that country is going to meet us there in private, to discuss an agreement and refuge plan. I'd like you to come for your skill. You are a very well trained warrior and we could use your experience if anything should go wrong."  
  
Persephone turned away from the large mirror on the wall and picked up a smaller one from her dresser, examining her face critically. She spoke in destraction as she stared into the mirror and passed Allen. "Why would something go wrong?" Still she held the small object in front of her. Allen didn't bother to turn as she walked behind him.  
  
"The king is very jumpy. He may make a mistake... Plus, Zaibach seems to be everywhere these days..." Allen sighed wearily. "But most of all, I'm worried about the king. He is very young, and his country took a serious blow when their capital fell not too long ago." The knight's eyes shined over in remembrance and a strange, thoughtful smile creased his face as he looked into the shadows of the room. "I had only visited the capital once. Corinth was very beautiful. It was the shining jewel of Mirama-" Allen jerked out of his chair as he heard a loud crash behind him.  
  
He turned to find Persephone pale behind him, the small mirror she had been holding laying in shards at her feet. He rushed forward, pushing her back gently so that she wouldn't be cut on her bare feet. He turned to look at her again, but had found that she had receded into the shadows, out of sight. "Persephone, are you all right?" He asked quietly, trying to penetrate the darkness.  
  
"I'm fine, Allen. Perhaps you should leave. I still have a lot to do to get ready." Her voice was expressionless and final. Allen knew well enough that it was his cue to leave.  
  
"I'll be right next door if you need anything." He said before leaving. Persephone sighed and stepped into the light. She was shaking visibly, her face pale.  
  
"Calm down, Perseph. Just calm down." She whispered to herself urgently as she tried desperately to take control of her body before it could go into the full spasms, the painful and terrifying seizures. She sat down on her nearby bed and winced quietly as she picked a large shard of glass out of the side of her foot. A trickle of blood ran down the side of her foot and collected at the end of her big toe before gravity grasped it, a large, crimson drop hitting the rug below. Persephone looked at the collecting stain on the white material below her, trying to hold back the memories. But in the end, it all came back.  
  
'...streets, filled with blood, screaming, death...' Persephone's mouth tightened, her teeth grinding as another convulsion hit her. '...the fire she brought, destroying it all. Corinth, in flames. An entire town, gone by her own deeds...' She felt darkness edging in on her as the seizure tried to take full hold of her violently, and she squeezed her eyes shut, gripping the material of the bed beneath her with trembling hands. But then a peace flowed over her at the next visions and she relaxed, only the slightest bit of a small shiver passed all over her body. '...feathers, wings, an angel. Pulled back from death, wakening her, embracing her...' She let out a choking sob, one last vision engulfing her before her guilt and misery backed down. It was a concerned face, a king dressed as a court jester, a smile just for her, a look just for her, a love just for her... A tear streamed down Persephone's face.  
  
'...Folken...'  
  
Author's Note: Whaddya think? Please Read and Review!  
  
  



	25. Default Chapter Title

Leviathan's Daughter  
GoldenEagle  
  
Author's Note: Hey, first I'd like to point out two exceptional fics I've come across that aren't getting much attention. Raymei's "Escaflowne- A Reborn Vision" is spectacular and is a must read. I want to thank her so much for her encouragement, along with GoldenDragon's. Another fic that's really good is Babyshampoo's "Escaflowne the Continuation". That story kicks ass. Oh, also, the "Worlds of Blue an White" series.... By Croik... That rocks... Anyways, on with the story (sorry, I'm tired and babbling).   
  
This installment is the longest so far, but I think you guys will enjoy the second chapter. We get to see some more of Folken. Plus, after these chapters, I believe the plot will start picking up and will ultimately leave to the finale. After all, we still have to honor that prophecy of Perseph's, huh?  
  
Chapter Thirty-Five  
  
"No-" Persephone threw the fabric down. "-I-" Threw a glare at Millerna. "-won't!" She gave a final, immature stomp of her foot before turning to storm out.  
  
"Oh, no you don't, you little heathen..." Millerna muttered in an enraged whisper as she grabbed the girl by the arm. "I will not let you blow our cover because of your stupid pride!" She screamed.   
  
"And I won't wear a dress. After all, I'm being brought along to fight if there is need, and how can I fight in fifty yards worth of fabric?!" Persephone replied, just as hotly. But, for once, the princess was going to get her way with this girl.  
  
"Get it on, right now..." She growled, shoving the girl onto the nearby bed. Two, flaming crimson eyes met hers and an angry, animal sound emitted from Persephone before she gave in, throwing a mental temper tantrum as she squeezed into the dress.  
  
***************  
  
Hitomi couldn't help but find herself rolling on the ground with laughter as she saw Persephone in the delicate, lace dress which bellowed around her. Millerna gave her a sharp glare. "What are you laughing about?"  
  
Hitomi, who was already in an uncomfortable, fancy dress, sat up, her skirts puffing out around her as she sat on the floor. Tears were streaming down her smiling face as she spoke. "You think she is supposed to look inconspicuous in that? You might as well have place a hat on Escaflowne and claimed him your brother! God, Persephone stands out more in that dress than she would if she traveled naked!" Millerna blushed at the girl's unlady like words before huffing past the two of them, both seemingly breaking into joyous laughter as she left. "Go change." Hitomi said through blurry eyes from the tears that had formed. The pleasant face of the woman before her was still painted with a joyful smile. The look was beautiful on the warrior, but somehow out of place at the same time. Like it drew its gorgeous expression by being some sort of miracle. The proof of a heart painted on the face of the heartless.  
  
*******************  
  
Allen turned in his saddle at the gentle beat of hoof beats, galloping up behind him. "I almost thought that you decided not to come, Lady Persephone." He said as she slowed next to him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Millerna give a snort of indignance and toss her head back, her nose lifted high. Hitomi sat next to her in the carriage and merely gave a small wave to Persephone before she leaned back, ready for a long ride.  
  
"Yeah, well, I had some wardrobe problems." She said plainly. Allen smiled as he looked her over, seated comfortably on her speckled mare, a pair of khaki pants and another one of his shirts on. Her hair was tied back, only a few strands falling forward to give her harsh features a softer look. Without the shimmering, crimson mass back, the locks fell to her shoulders.  
  
Persephone took a deep breath in, enjoying the open air once more of the forest. Van brought his horse up to the two quietly, keeping quiet, his scabbard at his side. On top of the worn carriage sat Gadeth, and inside were Hitomi and Millerna. Merle had been left back on the ship, considered a bit too much trouble and mischief for the group to handle right now. They had avoided bringing any other men, knowing the larger their group was, the more conspicuous it would be.  
  
Persephone contemplated why the two other ladies had been brought. Most likely Millerna had weaseled herself into the entire thing, thinking that, since she was royalty, it was only common to come along. As for Hitomi, Persephone knew full well why she came. She had heard the rumors of her "powers" to see the unseen. Plus, the girl seemed to calm Van down quite a bit, somehow. A small, ghost of a smile reached Persephone's lips in realization. Van and Hitomi. The Draconian King, and the fated Old Worlder. What a wonderful, tragic couple.  
  
After traveling on the deserted, dust roads for a few hours, Persephone brought her horse closer to Van's. The boy looked up at her tiredly, as if he didn't think he could handle whatever she had to say right now. "So, Van, how do you feel?"  
  
"Like I've been riding a horse for the last three hours." He said dully. Persephone frowned at his lack of emotion.  
  
"So..." After a few more moments of silence, Persephone pulled away from Van. She would never break the boundary between the two of them. His hate for Zaibach ran much deeper than she thought. It bothered her that she couldn't even reach out to *his* brother, couldn't even make a connection to the young, Fanalian King. Perhaps it were better that way.   
  
It was only about an hour later that the road they took intercepted with two more, much busier paths. It was obvious by the "traffic" that they were nearing the outskirts of Virdania and the festival that was to come. Persephone let out a tired sigh. 'Time to confront your past, child...'  
  
Chapter Thirty-Six  
  
Grey eyes observed the preperations of Virdania's festival without the least bit of interest. There had been rumors among certain social groups in the Zaibach empire that the king of Mirama might be meeting in secret with the main force behind the rebel troops this very night to discuss the country shielding and protecting this guerrilla power. He had stopped all rumors immediately, before any of them could reach people such as Dillandau or Emperor Dornkirk. Besides, the man only had one wish. He stepped into the newly lit light of the fires, the sun not fully down yet. A blue, tear shaped mark was the only imperfection visible on his face in the dimming daylight. All Folken wanted was one more chance. One more chance with his brother. Together, he was sure they could set Zaibach straight...  
  
**************  
  
"You've lost her again, Allen." Millerna said in an aggravated growl.  
  
"I didn't lose her. She's not a child. She can watch after herself." Allen replied curtly back, his eyes staring deep into the raging heart of a fire, the sky already dark above them. The princess only gave a disbelieving look before clattering off to go talk to Gadeth, who was seated not too far away, telling some stories of his "feats" to a group of beautiful young virgins. As for Hitomi and Van, they had long ago gone off, at Hitomi's urgings, to look at all the merchant's carts and such.  
  
Beyond the fire Allen sat before, people danced and there could be heard laughter of happy couples. Folk music was played vigorously on fiddles and harps and guitars. The knight shifted uncomfortably. "I should have been more specific." He muttered. "What if I pass King Sedrick by?" He asked himself out loud.  
  
"Oh, come on, Allen. Quit being such a worry wart. You know you won't miss him." The knight turned his head to see who it was, but bolted up at the sight of her. He stared into her eyes, his shining with a strange aurora. She was beautiful. She was beautiful.  
  
****************  
  
Hitomi was pulling Van from cart to cart, and the young Fanalian king wore a smile as he took in the simple joy she received from small, unimportant objects of Gaea. He didn't really noticed the set of grey eyes set upon him, calculating and reading his every move.  
  
Folken moved forward to approach them, knowing that, if push came to shove, he could disappear into the crowd around them. He stepped forward from the tree and shadows he hid behind, gathering his courage to approach his brother when something caught his eye. A flash of color, flaming and beautiful. His concentration on the business at hand was completely erased as he turned and saw her, in the clearing beyond. His heart skipped, shuttered, and then fell. What... Who...  
  
*Who was with her?*  
  
*************   
Allen was struck silent at her beauty. She had traded in her riding clothes for a simple, black dress, falling right below her knees. The neck was low cut, and she wore her hair up, yet scattered wildly over her head. One copper piece fell over her scarred eye, hiding it from most of the onlookers. "Why are you looking at me like that?" She asked, a nervous and reluctant smile flashing across her face momentarily.  
  
And she was nervous. Somehow she felt she had taken a wrong step, ended up in the wrong situation-  
  
"Would you like to dance?" The knight asked cordially as he bowed. He looked up, still bowed down, and offered out a hand. Persephone hesitated before taking it, a fast beat filtering through the music, and the Heavenly Knight spun her around in a glorious dance beneath the star light.  
  
**************  
  
He saw the man offer his hand. Looking closer, he did recognize the form as a Schezar. Allen Schezar, to be more precise. There was a slight pause from Persephone before she hesitantly took his hand and the knight pulled her out among the music. A bit of jealous rage flashed through Folken and he started forward, ready to take her from him, perhaps take the impostor's place. She was his, and his alone. He had almost reached the clearing when he froze at what he saw. The world stopped. His heart stopped.  
  
****************  
  
Persephone laughed a real, childish laugh as Allen spun her faster and faster to the increasing beat of the music. She was dizzy, but ecstatic with an innocent joy she hadn't felt in a very long time. The music's beat grew so quick that the notes melted together in Persephone's ears into one loud scream of beat and dance, and she let it speak to her, draw her further into this ecstasy. Then, despite the music, despite the joy she had just felt, her world suddenly stopped, along with the beat of her heart. Her eyes were closed and she didn't know what to do at first, unresponding, as she felt Allen's lips over hers, a kiss that somehow seemed to destroy her with a final, devestating blow.  
  
****************  
  
Folken Strategos stared on as his lover's eyes stayed closed as she kissed another man. He suddenly felt broken, battered. As if he had been slowly rusted through. Had she not received his letter? Did she not have faith in him that, one day, they would be together again? Or did she just not care? Folken shuttered from the mortal blow and turned his eyes away, pushing away tears that threatened to spill from him. No. No, he would not cry for her. He turned and crashed almost blindly from the crowds of people, all thoughts of his brother and the future hope for Zaibach gone. He gritted his teeth. He would not cry over her. He wouldn't cry.  
  
The tears spilt out, despite his efforts.  
  
*****************  
  
Allen's mouth still covered her own, his kiss long and soft, gentle, coaxing her to respond. Her lips refused to answer for the first few seconds, along with her body, so she just stood, him holding her in his arms. Though his lips and tongue and hands urged her to reply, she didn't move. And then, with a steady building of realization of what was truly happening, stiffness creeped into Persephone and with a sharp cry, Persephone placed her hand on his chest and pushed away. Her eyes were sealed shut as tears threatened to fall forth. She wouldn't look at the knight, her head to the side. "Persephone..." His soft fingers touched her face questioningly.  
  
She jerked away, stumbling backwards. She finally looked up at him from a lowered head. The paleness found even in her eyes made her complexion look even white as she stared up at him for a few seconds. "Don't..." She gasped for breath, a horrible feeling of betrayal and heart break falling over her. Allen took a step towards her, but she backed up more, shaking her head vigorously as she clenched her fists. "Don't... Don't ever do that again, Allen, do you hear me?" She said in a low, tearful whisper. A hurt look crossed his face and he didn't respond.   
  
"Persephone..."  
  
As he took another step forward, his hands reaching out for her, she turned and ran, bolting away from Allen. As she did so, pushing her way through the crowd, she looked to the stars and sobbed loudly as she hid among the shadows of the forest, her back to a tree.   
  
What had she done? What had she done? She certainly had an attraction to Allen Schezar, a strange, new type of attraction. She felt that she could love him, if she knew him better. God, he was her friend! She should have kissed the knight back, should have responded to his hurt looks. But she hadn't. Why? Because, she didn't have the heart to love again. She had given her heart to a prince far away, one she would never see again. Persephone's tears came harder as she curled up against the tree, her shoulders shaking. Despite the fact that she had finally found a group of people that she felt she could maybe belong to, she felt more alone than she had ever before. Her world was falling apart, crashing to the ground. All because of that one, stupid man she had left behind to find her fate. If it wasn't for him, she could fall in love with Allen. Without him, she could look at herself and not have to ask what was so wrong with her to keep him away. And, without him... She would be nothing.  
  
"I hate you." She hissed to the dark, sobs tearing through her chest. "I hate you."  
  
Author's Notes: Hate it, love it? As I said above, things start picking up from here. I'm not even gonna tell you how many pages you've read if you've made it this far. It give me a headache to think about it... Egh.... But, please read and review!   
  



	26. Default Chapter Title

Leviathan's Daughter GoldenEagle   
  
Author's Note: *rubs hands evily* I've been mondoly depressed lately, which is why the last four chapters sucked, but last night I got over it and now I can focus on torturing my vict- er, I mean *charecters* fully. Enjoy, enjoy! If the installments seem to be getting a bit longer, it's because there is so much happening that I need to get it all in. So... Again, read and review! And, yes, I do read reviews! They are one of my number one ispiration/writer's block destroyers out there!!  
  
Chapter Thirty-Seven  
  
"Where is that girl now?" Millerna asked as her, Gadeth, Hitomi, and Van approached the sitting form of Allen. Hitomi had managed to weasel her way into getting several things from the merchants and held a full satchel. Yet, her light mood darkened as she saw how hunched over the knight was, the defeated look that filled his eyes.  
  
"She... Left." He said plainly as he glanced up. Exhaustion and pain lined his blue eyes, his golden hair shimmering in the fire light. Hitomi frowned at the look on his face.  
  
"Allen, are you all right?" She asked, but before he could answer, Van's voice cut through the crisp air.  
  
"Here she comes." The knight was quickly by his side and could also see the form of Persephone moving towards them, her head lowered ever so slightly, staring at the ground.   
  
"Allen, I presume?" A voice made him turn, and he gave a quick bow as he recognized the King of Mirama. Though royalty stood in front of him, his mind was focused on the girl approaching from behind. Yet his attention was immediately drawn to the king, a dark look in his eyes.  
  
"Your Highness, What's wrong?" He asked, a little bit of doubt and nervousness rushing through him.  
  
"I'm afraid we've fallen to different sides." The brown haired, brown eyes king said serenely. Allen's eyes widened slightly as he saw two tall guards step up behind the man.  
  
"King Sedrick...?" Allen's voice held the tone of confusion as more guards approached. Betrayal. He knew the act well.  
  
It was then that he felt her move, felt her turn, felt her fear. It was Hitomi, behind him, her eyes dilated, her face pale. Her scream split through the air. "Persephone!"  
  
The knight followed Hitomi's wide gaze and saw Persephone, only a few yards away. She had frozen at the younger girl's words. And then, with a sudden flash of movement, she spun, her hands reaching upwards and grasping the fists above her. The soldier pushed his arms down heavier as she gripped his wrists, the sharp, shining blade centimeters from biting into her forehead.  
  
For a few frozen seconds, the two stared into each other's eyes, sweat beading on their foreheads. The people around were frozen, even those she had come with. But even if they had made a move, it would have been pointless. They were surrounded by soldiers carrying swords and wearing armor.   
  
Persephone's thoughts were spinning as she felt the pressure above her increase, the blade pushing forward. She was forced to her knees. No. No. She had destroyed them. She shouldn't have come. They knew. They knew that she was the demon... The demon that destroyed Corinth...  
  
With a wild war cry, Persephone pushed up on the man above her. With the sudden burst of strength, the man stumbled backwards and Persephone twisted his wrists. The sword fell from his grasp into hers, and she thrust it forward. The soldier's eyes grew wide in surprise as he was stabbed through by his own sword.  
  
A small yelp issued from her lips as she felt a blunt object strike her on her back, forcing her down to her knees again. Her arms were shoved violently behind her back and she was lifted to face the King behind her. She saw the other's faces, their eyes dark and wide and questioning. It was Allen that snapped out of the shock first, his face going hard, his eyes burning.   
  
He looked up at the king who stood with a stern look. "You betrayed us." His voice was low, menacing.  
  
The man turned to the knight, his eyebrows raised in surprise and annoyance. "Me? I betrayed you?" A coarse, empty laugh escaped his lips. "You betrayed *me*, Allen Schezar."  
  
"What are you talking about?" It was Van this time, his voice holding no true hate, only anger and fear and confusement.  
  
"Please, let them go. They don't know what I've done. They don't know who I am, what I am..." Persephone's voice was soft, broken, deep. As if she didn't have the will to put up a fight any longer. Her night had been plagued with questions, and now an answer had come. All people had to pay for their sins. This was her fate. To face the consequences of the murder she had commited, of the blood spilled by both her and her ancestors.  
  
Sedrick looked curiously at the girl, her crushed aurora flowing from her stance. He glanced at the others, genuine confusement in their eyes. So. Perhaps she was telling the truth. He stepped forward, his soldiers milling about to stand by his side and also to surround the five behind him. Gadeth was muttering something threatening, but Allen silenced him, too interested in what was going on before him to miss a word. But in the end, he could hear nothing of the two's whispers.  
  
The man of royalty knelt before the girl, his brown eyes trying to catch her own, her head lowered. He pulled a long glove off of his hand, revealing scars of fire and, underneath those distinct ones, white lines. The scars were... bites? "Do you recognize me, Demon?" He said in a low voice with little or no emotion. Persephone looked down and caught sight of his arm. She was silent for a moment and the soldier holding her tightened his grip, warning her to answer. Her eyes widened slowly and she looked up at the man before her. A large scar covered nearly half his face. An obvious burn scar.  
  
She moaned. "You're the lunatic. The one who kidnapped me from Zaibach's traveling party. I fought and bit you the entire way back to the camp." She was so tired, and it showed as she let her voice hold little emotion but annoyed realization.  
  
A slight smile creased the older man's lips. "Very good, Guardian. Now, how do you think I got these scars?" He asked, indicating the pink, newer ones.  
  
"I have no idea, unless it was from when I threw the liquor into the fire-"  
  
A hard laugh interupted her words. "No, no! They are from Corinth. I was there, leading the attack. That is how I know it was you who destroyed my city, my family, my people. And, seeing your face twice in very important situations, I do recognize it. I know of the legends that warn of apocalypse at the last death of the Four, and I know you are the last." He looked sincerely at her then. "But my people must be avenged." He whispered. "If it brings all hell with it, so be it. You will pay for the blood shed at Corinth."  
  
Chapter Thirty-Eight  
  
"What's going on, Persephone?" Allen's voice was filled with a certain accusing tone he had never used on a lady before. But she was not just a lady. She was a warrior and, some part of his mind told him, a traitor.  
  
The group had obviously not heard the conversation between the two before. Now they were all bound, being marched far away from the city, a small crowd following the mass of solemn soldiers and giant guymelefs. There was no discrimination between the six of them, except a little bit of knowledgeable fear of her. Even the Princess Millerna was dragged roughly along, even the trembling Hitomi was not given any sympathetic advantages. They were all outlaws. Because of her. Because of the "Demon".  
  
"I'm sorry, Allen." She said quietly, her voice dry and completely defeated, just as her being was.   
  
"Just tell me what's going on..." He growled as he was pushed forward by an impatient soldier.  
  
"At Corinth. It was me. It was me that was behind the massacre." She said, staring at the ground.  
  
Allen's eyes widened and he turned his head to look at her. "You..." It was half between a hate filled accusation and a shocked question.  
  
"Sedrick will let you all live, but he will kill me. That's where we must be going. To my execution." The knight didn't know what to feel at her words. Had it only been a couple of hours ago that he had kissed her, showed her that he loved her...? No, it wasn't her. It was a mask. This was all revealing the truth of what she had been and what she had done. Yet she was only a woman... How could she have demolished that magnificent city, left it as only ash and smoke? He didn't know Persephone. He didn't know her at all.  
  
"You're not human. You can't be if you destroyed Corinth." he said emotionlessly.  
  
He heard her let out a bitter and soft laugh. "I am human and I am not. I don't even know what I am."  
  
It was then that they reached the place they were going. Cliffs rose up on either side around the strip of rocky land that ended itself in a cliff. There was only one way out, and it was the way with which they came. They were on the edge of a mountain, and the drop of the cliff fell hundreds of feet below. Soldiers started to line the cliffs above them and Persephone took in their bows and readied arrows with indifference. She felt hollowed out. Empty. Devoid.  
  
It was then that she was separated from the group and pushed violently forward. A lone tree stood at the edge of the cliff, crimson and orange leaves making it beautiful despite its barren surroundings. With unnecessary violence, the four soldiers that had pushed her to the tree pushed her back up against it and bound her there. As soon as they were done, she lowered her head, her blood red hair falling softly about her face.  
  
She could save herself, she knew full well. Call on that flame and escape. Even kill all these men, if she felt the need. But an earlier threat kept floating through her mind. The king had warned that, if she caused trouble, that those who had traveled with her, innocents though they were, would be killed. 'And why should it matter?' She asked herself numbly. 'They are only distractions.' Though her head spoke the words, her heart made the decision to spill her blood for those five unfortunate people she had dragged into this.  
  
The king spoke loudly and clearly, condemning her with confidence. "We come here to pay for the massacre of Corinth by the life of her destroyer. The blood of a god shall be shed for the blood of the hundreds of humans lost by her hand. Demon, do you wish to say anything before your execution is carried out?"  
  
She looked up, her eyes a dark, troubled blue. She saw the group of five on their knees beside the king. Allen stared at the ground, avoiding any sight of her. Van looked at her coldly, no emotion on his face at all. Millerna looked terrified for her and kept glancing up at the archers above, knowing the sentence about to be carried out. Gadeth looked at her in hopeful, yet disappointed awe, knowing what kind of warrior she was and wondering why she wouldn't escape. As for the Old Worlder, she was staring straight at Persephone, tears falling from her eyes. A fleeting, old, forgotten and childish thought went through her mind and crossed her lips. She laughed out a real, though slightly sad, laugh. "You know, I never learned to drive?" She said, staring straight at Hitomi. "Never graduated Highschool, never had the chance to get a job. Little angel," She said, smiling motherly at the girl. Hitomi's eyes grew wide as she spoke, a memory of one Halloween night, so long ago, and a sad yet kind girl. "Do you know how much I envy the life and choices you have ahead of you?"  
  
"No, stop! I know her! She's no murderer! Stop! Stop!" Hitomi cried out, even as the king nodded to his archers. They raised their bows, positioned their arrows, pulled back the string-  
  
Persephone had closed her eyes in a strange anticipation before they snapped open, a presence floating over the entire scene, behind her. She threw her head to the side, desperate to see behind her with wide eyes the being she knew was there.  
  
And the men above released their strings, the arrows flying with perfect persision at the girl bound below them.  
  
  
  
  
  



	27. Default Chapter Title

Leviathan's Daughter GoldenEagle   
  
Author's Note: *Another* long installment. If this one sucks, please forgive me. I just got over being depressed only to find that I'm sick. I'm thinking mono, and if you know what that is, you know that I could be seriously screwed. For those of you who don't, well, it's something you get from bodily fluids interchanging (that's why it's called the "Kissing Disease", though I probably caught it by sharing food since I haven't ever really kissed kissed someone, if you get what I'm saying...)  
  
Oh, another thing! I was watching a documentary on Napoleon for History today and he soooo reminds me of Dilly for some reason! Now he's my favorite dead guy! It's really cool, cause he's a total genius and completely interesting. You should research him. When he's coming back from his exile on Elba, an island he escaped from, King Louis sends out these huge troops to arrest him. When they come, Napoleon steps forward unarmed and says something like, "Will anyone here shoot your emperor?" And they all swarm forward and join him, totally loyal and worshipping him. Kind of like the Dragon Slayers, no? But then, despite the followers he picked up from more troops and even some people in towns, he loses to that stupid Duke What's-His-Name at Waterloo, even though he had the upperhand in the beginning! Plah, that shows you how screwed up the world is! The cool, slightly sadistical or insane guys never win! It's always those stupid goody-goodies (I shouldn't be talking since I am one, hehe). Anyways, thought ya'll might like that lesson on History. You have no idea how cool Napoleon is, though! *rolls eyes* Yes, I know I'm a dork!   
Chapter Thirty-Nine  
  
A prayer issued through Persephone's lips as she closed her eyes. She had grown up religious and was taken unawares by the urge. After all, there had to be a God. Leviathan had mentioned of Him earlier, the creator of all things. Her soul reached out to Him, her being cried out before Him. She was supposed to be the remains of one of His greatest creations, and here she was, about to die...  
  
She felt the first bite of an arrow and a tear escaped her eyes as it plunged into her upper left thigh. She could feel her blood come out quickly. It must have hit something big-  
  
The sound of metal hitting metal caused her to open her eyes, along with the curiosity to why no more arrows had hit her. And there, above her, circling and pacing and spewing fire, was her companion, her father, her savior, his tail whipping about around him as soldiers were yelling out, calling the guymelefs forward. But the panic was thick on the scene and it took a while before anyone actually followed commands. In that time, Leviathan moved his head to the side and looked at Persephone with his one good eye while bringing his dagger-tipped tail forward and cutting the ropes from the tree gracefully. ~I'm afraid my timing came a fraction of a second too late. Can you stand, Daughter?~ He asked even as she slid down, her back against the tree, blood smearing the white bark.  
  
"I'll be all right." She said as she looked up at him with ocean blue eyes. She gathered herself up and leaned against the tree for support. It was then that the first of the five guymelefs moved forward. Leviathan gave a low growl as the metal giant withdrew its sword and charged at the dragon.  
  
It didn't take much for the ancient creature to destroy his opponent, his tail whipping forward faster than the eye could see and tearing its pointed tip all the way through the machine. The guymelef went limp, still impaled by the dragon's blade, before Leviathan snapped his tail backwards, the mass of metal slipping off and flying through the air and over the side of the cliff. All of this was done in a matter of seconds as if it were simple and instinctive.  
  
Persephone limped over to the side of the dragon, looking to see the scene beyond, worried for her five acquaintances. She caught sight of Allen through the chaos, freeing the others, a fallen guard at his side. A ghost of a smile etched across her lips. It was then that the second guymelef charged, his blade risen, a mad cry from the owner within. Leviathan gave a loud snarl as he raised his tail and struck with the speed and agility of a cobra, but the machine dodged his blow with a wide pounce. It hit the ground, skidded to a stop, and charged once more. Persephone took a cautious step back as the creature came within yards of her. She covered her ears and winced as Leviathan let out a full fledged roar before sinking his teeth into the guymelef. Sparks flew and it was completely torn in half, but not before the raised sword fell down with amazing force. An animal scream split through the chaos, making the soldiers freeze at the awe and sorrow in the sound.  
  
"Leviathan..." Persephone whispered as the creature stumbled back a few steps, the sword falling, a black blood pouring from the wound. "Oh, no..."  
  
Leviathan met her eyes and gave her a forced, reptilian grin. ~Don't worry about it, Daughter. I'll be fine. Though I'm afraid I won't be much good as a fighter.~ A look much like a wince crossed his face as he glanced at the wound that slashed across his back. He looked back at her, a deep and pained look on his face. ~You're wounded, and I cannot protect you fully.~  
  
And he was right, soldiers stepping forward as they saw the terrifying creature trembling, their confidence returning. "I need a-"  
  
"Sword?" The voice by her side made her jump. She turned to see Gadeth behind her, giving a classical grin as he held out her long, curved blade.  
  
She took it, grimacing as the wound in her thigh throbbed at her movements. She knew better than to remove the arrow completely yet, knowing it was slowing her bleeding, if even by a little bit. But she did turn and break of the tip quickly as she saw Gadeth's gaze take it in, a frown crossing his face. "Where are the others?" She asked, a cold sweat breaking out on her from the sting of the arrow.  
  
"Taking cover for the moment on a cliff side nearby." He glanced back at the dragon behind him, it staring at him with calculating red eyes. "A friend of yours?" He asked nervously.  
  
A wry grin cracked Persephone's pale face. "You could say that."  
  
Another frown crossed Gadeth's face. "So, I guess he can't fly us out of here, huh?" It was a sincere question, the hint of quickly falling hopes found there.  
  
Persephone shook her head and stepped forward, glaring back momentarily at the soldiers which were fighting among themselves, a riot started by the crowd that had followed behind the party. She knew that, soon, some of the soldiers, or even the peasants, would lose fear of them and get cocky. They would be attacked. "Leviathan. You need to leave." She looked into the lizard's eyes with a sincere and innocent look, laying her head on his snout  
  
~I can't leave you-~   
  
"You must."  
  
All Gadeth heard of this was Persephone's words and a low grumbling in the back of the dragon's throat. He shifted nervously, noticing some of the soldiers starting to make their way towards them through the boiling riot.  
  
Leviathan took a deep breath in, her scent filling his nostrils. ~Your wound. It has hit a main pathway of your blood. You must treat it before you lose too much of your life, Daughter.~ Persephone nodded, noticing for the first time the dizziness and faintness that seemed to buzz through her. ~Remember, if you die, it is more than just your loss.~ He said deeply as he retreated back slowly, giving a slow groan as he edged over the cliff, clinging to it before dropping and gliding down, his body shaking with pain.  
  
Persephone watched him with mild disdain before turning to the matter at hand. Four men had cleared the mob and were making their way towards the two. "Go protect the others." Persephone was surprised to find the words in her mouth, but pushed back the urge to show the astonishment.  
  
Gadeth raised his eyebrows. "You sure you'll be okay?"  
  
A smirk was his only reply and he left on foot, slipping back into the raging crowd. Persephone licked her lips in anticipation as the four came forward, only seeing an injured and unprotected woman. You have to excuse them for being such fools for the only ladies they had ever encountered were cowering, small things, which hid behind dashing men. Men much like Allen, in fact, though they would have given the knight much more respect than any other man. One of the men seemed more cocky than the rest, and it was him that attacked first.  
  
Persephone was in no mood to play games, her cheeks burning and her stomach writhing. She blocked his blow quickly before swiping off his head, the decapitated corpse falling beneath her. Another man ran forward, too stupid to see the warning signs of expertise before him. Persephone didn't even bother blocking his blow and she sliced him easily in half. He stared up at her in horror before blood poured from his lips and he fell, in two pieces. By now, the other two had decided to leave her alone, knowing better than to start a fight with her. She lifted her hand wearily and wiped away slighty at the still warm blood that coated her face thickly. She had to find Allen. She had to find the others.  
  
"I thought we made a deal, Demon." A low voice commented from deep within the riot, his voice somehow cracking through the cries of war. People parted in his presence and he stepped up, the King of Mirama. In his arms he held Hitomi, her eyes wide. Persephone's eyes narrowed. 'Where are the others? Why didn't they stop him?' But she didn't voice her opinions. This was her fight. "Remember the deal? Take the lives of your comrades if you cause trouble." He glances around, his face looking disfigured with the gore smeared across it. "Is this a good enough example of chaos, Guardian?" He cried out in frustration, his blade edging closer to Hitomi's vulnerable throat.  
  
She didn't have time to think before she moved. It was pure instinct as her mind pushed forward, her command called out, her eyes flashed with flame. A few seconds of frozen anticipation came, the king staring at her, and she staring at the torches that hung from the sides of the valley, casting flickering and shifting light. Persephone's eyes drifted closed dreamily, but with their close she opened the gates of Hell.  
  
The torches that gave light to the scene slowly flickered and died low before they sprang forward, their flame rocketing out like an explosion. Two streaks raced through the air, circling like maddened birds, before crashing into King Sedrick and circling around again, only to crash down once more, then lift off. His scream of pain echoed through the valley as his clothes caught on fire. He released his hold on Hitomi and she covered her face as she pushed forward, terrified that she would be burnt as well. Though the man rolled in the dry dust below, the flame would not go out and soon he lay there, charred, two strings of fire flickering out above him, like fireflies.  
  
"Hitomi!" It was Van, running to her kneeling side, the others of their group following. The fight that had broken out was now scattering, people running in defeat and fear. Though it may have been comforting that the fight seemed over to the untrained eye, Persephone knew full well that it only meant trouble. Van was helping a trembling Hitomi to her feat, no words spoken, only concerned glances and touches shared.  
  
Most of the group huddled around her, Millerna checking to make sure she was okay, but Allen stood, staring at Persephone, her cheeks flush, her eyes slightly glazed over. He moved closer to her and reached out as if to touch her, but thought better of it and lowered his hand to his side. "You did that?"  
  
She nodded, dully, and he realized that the look on her face was not one from defeat or any other rational emotion, but fever. She looked pale, and for the first time, he noticed the ever spreading pool of blood she stood on, still being fed by a stream that originated from her left thigh. "You're hurt." He said, with more concern, and he walked towards her, placing his hands gently on her shoulders, steadying her slightly swaying form.  
  
Yet, even as he did so, her head snapped up, her eyes grew more alert. "Allen..." She murmured and he turned to see what she stared at. The three remaining guymelefs were approaching, a large group of soldiers behind them. They had been cornered again. The knight moaned. They should have escaped when they had the chance. "Get the others to the tree... Or a cave... Or something. For God's sake, Allen, get them to cover!" Persephone cried as he just stood, staring at the creatures approaching with dull acceptance.  
  
It was Millerna's panicked voice that finally reached him and he grabbed Persephone by the arms, dragging her with him. She bit her lips as the pain stabbed through her, more blood escaping from her wound with the sudden movements. Van had sprinted ahead of the hopelessly fleeing group. "I saw an opening over here!" He yelled as they headed to a secluded cave's mouth, the entrance hidden by overgrown thorn's and shrubs. A sharp cry brought Persephone to a dead stop, Allen's grasp slipping from her.  
  
"Hitomi!" She cried, the girl on the ground out of reach, having tripped. Hitomi was struggling to rise, but wasn't fast enough. The large feet of the guymelefs were falling down only five feet away. Persephone heard similar shouts yell out for the young girl's safety, but it was only her that had the instinct to react and recover from the fear first. She bolted forward, ignoring the pain in her leg as she did so. She scrambled to Hitomi's side and wrapped her arms around her, covering her body as a metal foot slammed into the ground a foot from where they were huddled. "Hide your eyes, Angel. Hide your face." Persephone whispered. Hitomi obeyed, too afraid to do anything else. The sudden heat that surrounded her made her scream out in terror and pain, flames licking at her legs and back. She burried her head deeper into Persephone's shoulder, trying to escape the consuming heat.  
  
The others were struck dumb, their bodies frozen in place, as they saw Persephone draw Hitomi to her and watched as the two were surrounded by two bodies of flame. It was Van who recognized the shape first, his mouth dropping. Wings, with beautiful and smoldering feathers of flame floating down, biting into the metal feet of the guymelefs, those two wings covering the both of them protectively. The soldiers seemed just as shocked as the other party, their eyes wide as they froze, not knowing what to do.  
  
Things happened in a blur, one, and then two, of the guymelefs going down, torn in half by an invisible force. Allen froze in recognition. *Zaibach.* The soldiers ran, this whole situation of fire winged beings and invisible enemies too much for them. The third guymelef turned to retreat, but was cut in half violently, its commander dying almost instantly. With a flicker of some unknown material and a few gleaming reflections, the large metal soldier stood before them, its hand stretched out. The group gave a quick glance around. It was the only way out. With a reluctant sigh, Allen stepped forward and onto the hand of the Zaibach guymelef, the others starting to follow, but all their eyes turning to the forms of the two girls below them.  
  
Persephone's wings flickered and went out, leaving no sign of them ever being there except blackened earth and the two's burnt clothing. Hitomi was still pressed harshly into Persephone's chest, whimpering and shaking, tears wondering across her blackened face. "We have to get up." The red haired girl said in a weak whisper. Green eyes met blue ones and Hitomi saw it there, the fever, the pain, the oncoming delirium.  
  
"Persephone." She forced out as she started to stand, helping to support the frail body beneath hers. They staggered forward a few steps before Persephone blacked out completely, her body falling off of Hitomi's supporting one. Luckily, Allen was there to catch her before she hit the ground, as he always is for any maiden in distress, and he lifted her up, giving one last cautious glance at the guymelef above him before stepping onto its outstretched hand with a feeling of doubt and uneasiness.  
  
  
  



	28. Default Chapter Title

Leviathan's Daughter GoldenEagle   
Author's Note: This one is shorter than the last few installments. I want to thank Padme for asking if I'd do this scene. I had thought earlier about doing it, but had reconcidered because I knew nothing about tarot cards. But, after literally a couple of hours of study on the cards, I felt confident that I could perhaps portray a certain meaning with them, even though, if researching the tarot cards, you can tell my version of a reading is completely out of wack. Anyways, read and review! Enjoy!  
  
Chapter Forty  
  
Cold. That was all Persephone could feel as she woke, heavy blankets piled on top of her. She pushed herself up with effort, her eyes half closed as she looked across the room. She recognized it as Allen's, though no one seemed to be there at the moment. She felt weak, and her left thigh seemed to throb at every movement. She lowered herself back down slowly, gritting her teeth, until she was on her back, staring at the ceiling.  
  
Her hand traveled to her thigh and she could feel the delicate stitches that were obviously Millerna's handy work. Persephone closed her eyes, breathing in deeply. She tried to remember what happened, but could only catch certain clips and scenes from the battle before. Hitomi's crying face, a flash of fire and scales, the king's corpse laying burnt on the ground... And then the giant guymelef, wearing Zaibach's colors. Persephone's eyes snapped open. Zaibach. She trembled under the blankets. They had found her...  
  
*************  
  
"How are you feeling?" Persephone smiled up as Hitomi approached, the kindness in her eyes echoed by her voice.  
  
"Fine. A little weak, a little confused, and a little lonely, but that's not too out of the ordinary." The read haired girl replied, grateful for her first visitor.  
  
Hitomi wondered in nonchalantly and glanced around at Allen's things before sitting on the bed in front of Persephone, laying down a small satchel she had forgotten to leave in her room. She fidgeted for a few moments before opening her mouth to say something, but she was promptly interupted by the girl in front of her.  
  
"What's this?" Persephone asked as she pulled open the satchel. A deck of cards lay in it, kept together by a soft strip of cloth.  
  
Hitomi pulled out the cards and untied them while fingering them cautiously and with a certain amount of respect. "They're my tarot cards." And, without real thought, she asked in a bright voice, "Do you want me to do a reading?"  
  
Persephone looked a little taken back before nodding mutely. A part of her felt guilty as Hitomi readied the cards, the very participation in the act going against her religion. Religion. Strange that the subject continually made itself known in her mind. And yet there was a part of her that somehow drew her to the ritual, like laughter may call to a child.  
  
Hitomi laid down the first card. A girl of flames, dancing and relishing in them. "Princess of Wands." She stated plainly. "The Wands are the main, spiritual element. Wands represent fire and the root of all power and the raw, bare image of life. The Princess of Wands is passionate, throwing herself fully and loyally at anything that she can keep hold of. Most of what she partakes in doesn't last long, and what does she wholly protects. The Princess of Wands is known to hold grudges, and is prone to become bitter, despite her being the very essence of life." Hitomi lay another card down, this time of a woman riding a beast, more flames entrapping them. "The Passion. Another card of extreme and all-out emotion. Yet this one symbolizes more of the taming of an inner self. The taming and yet enjoyment of the animal part inside you." As Hitomi lay the next one down, she frowned slightly. A golden cart, led by two copper horses. "The Chariot. The card of moving forward." Two green eyes looked up at Persephone. "These are your three main personality cards. The first two shows extreme emotion, while the third shows... The Chariot is often a card of certain ups and downs. In the Chariot, when you move forward, often times walls are built. And sometimes the owner makes these walls their own, and they meld as a part of their personality. These walls could often entrap the passion of life."  
  
"Go on." Persephone said, her face expressionless.  
  
Hitomi laid down the next card. "The Two Towers. This is a sign of change. After the Chariot, it shows that these walls that have been built are broken by some force. A strong force, considering the Princess of Wands in the earlier background. Perhaps this force is a friend, an emotion... a man...?" Hitomi looked up at Persephone. The slightest, momentary bit of unidentifiable emotion flitted across her face before it was gone. The younger girl let it pass. She placed down the next card, two people, wrapped in each other's arms. "The Lovers. This card symbolizes a love in your life. Not just a lover, but someone or something you draw in. I don't know what it really means until I pull the next-" Hitomi's voice faltered and stopped as she saw the next card. She laid it down slowly. A cloaked figure, the face unseen, a scythe in hand...  
  
"The Death. The Lover followed by the Death. Someone close to you is going to bring your life to a painful end." She looked up, only to find that Persephone's face was impassive. As if she knew this much. Hitomi clenched her eyes closed as the visions flew at her. Persephone, a limp form in her arms, her wings of fire outstretched... Red, crimson eyes, overflowing with tears as the owner of that gaze laughed maniacally... A cross, blood, Gaea's dying scream...  
  
"Hitomi?" Persephone's voice was concerned, motherly. "Hitomi, are you all right?"  
  
"Yeah." She stuttered, looking up. "I guess. Here, there are still more cards." She placed down the next card and her brow wrinkled in thought. A fire bird, wings outstretched... "The Aeon. I've never had this card played before, believe it or not. I forget what it means. Something about fire, rebirth... I'm not sure." She shook her head. "It could mean the death and a new beginning. I can't read it. Sorry." She looked up with green eyes and smiled apologetically before continuing. Hitomi seemed puzzled as she continued, laying five cards down in a fast beat. She pointed them out, speaking quickly, excited at the new and odd sight before her. "These four... I've never even drawn these four before..." She pointed to another flaming card, a man with a strange, light crown on his head. "The Prince of Wands, of fire and life." She pointed to the next one, a girl on a beach of a secluded island, waves bursting around her. "The Princess of Cups, of water and compassion." The next one, a man with the wings of a great bird. "The Prince of Swords, of air and war." And then the last one, a girl seeming to dance, vines making up her body and clothing. "The Princess of Disks, of earth and creation." Hitomi paused at the last one, a shining white orb. "And the Star, the card that tells of a good fate, a happy ending. Peace." The teenager looked up with sparkling green eyes. "It's almost like a prophesy, a legend-"  
  
"It is a lie." Persephone muttered, slightly angered by the cards before her. "It almost speaks of the Four, but of the Four, only one remains." She looked up, her eyes dark. "It is a lie. Nothing can take back what has already been taken." She looked away sharply, into the shadows before changing the subject. "Hitomi... What happened? I remember a fight, and a Zaibach guymelef..."  
  
At the sudden turn of conversation, Persephone could see Hitomi grow restless, nervous. She played with her fingers, looking down. "We were carried by a Zaibach soldier out of the battle, but if it hadn't been for a search party sent out by the Crusade, we would have been brought to Zaibach as prisoners." Hitomi shuttered slightly. "There was a small fight, but it was one against three, and we have the pilot here. We've heard that Zaibach is sending someone out here to bargain with us, to try and buy back our prisoner."  
  
A slight bit of agitation filled Persephone at the girl's timidness, at her careful words to conceal some truth. "So it must be someone important. Who and what rank does he have?"  
  
Hitomi bit her lip. "Allen told me not to say anything since the prisoner knows you..." She said, playing with her hands once more.  
  
"And how do you know he knows me?" Persephone asked sharply, standing up off the bed and pacing. Something was putting her at ill ease, and she felt a slight twisting of her stomach.  
  
"He called you by name several times and..." Hitomi's voice faded away.  
  
"Hitomi! Just tell me!"  
  
"He called you 'Sister'." Persephone's blood went cold.  
  
Dillandau...  
  
Hitomi couldn't stop Persephone as she sprinted out of the room, and she sighed, more confused now than ever before. She lowered her head and then opened her eyes. The tarot cards had been scattered by all the movement on the mattress, but two remained, flashing up in a brutal promise.  
  
The Lover and the Death.  
  
Author's note: And you thought it was Folken! Hehe. No, I still have a little bit of fun with Dillandau before he turns into a complete monstor... ANYways, again, thank you soooooo much Padme for asking for the scene. I actually enjoyed writing it and researching the tarot cards, though it was confusing as hell. Hope to hear from you guys! Please review! Oh, one more thing, don't forget the last five cards, since they'll be important later on... Won't tell you how, though!  
  



	29. Default Chapter Title

Leviathan's Daughter GoldenEagle   
Author's Note: Ah, another shorter chapter. Oh, well. What do I have to babbel about today? Hmm... I've been home sick from school the last two days, which basically means I'm screwed because I'm so far behind, especially in Speech (Egh, I hate that class). Ur... Please review? Heh. I don't have much to talk about. Doodle doodle dee, deedle deedle do...  
  
Chapter Forty-One  
  
Allen leaned back against a cool, metal wall, his brow wet with sweat. "You sure that should keep him down?" He asked Millerna, who was rising from the sedated form of a silver haired boy below.  
  
The princess just gave him a look. "It should work better than everything else you've given the boy so far. Can't you find somewhere better for him than in one of your rooms?" She asked in exasperation.  
  
"He would be in a cell, but, as you know, there's not much left of anything in there." He said, recalling the twisted and melted havoc Persephone left behind when she had decided to get out of her momentary prison.  
  
"Um... Boss?" A low voice mumbled from the other side of the door, which was ajar.   
  
Allen stood with a frown on his face, rubbing his arm gingerly from the bites he had received. He stepped forward before the door was pushed open violently in front of him and he stumbled back as it made impact with his long nose. He let out a hiss of pain as he felt a trickle of blood flowing down his hand, which covered the middle of his face. He was stooped over and when he finally looked up at who had barged in, he couldn't help but do it slowly, drinking in her image with a certain awe and respect.  
  
Persephone looked down at him, an eyebrow raised, a seriously pissed look on her face. She looked more annoyed than he had ever seen her, and it kind of scared him. She was in a long, plain skirt (most likely taken from Millerna's never-worn clothing items). It fit a little snugly at her waist, but around her thighs it was loose, which was why he imagined she wore it, because of her wound. As for a shirt, she wore the trademark Allen shirt, loose and flowing around her. Yet, as much as he would have loved to just stare up at her, she seemed to have different ideas.  
  
"Get up, Allen." She said in a stern voice. He did so, still holding his nose. She had her hands on her hips, and a deep, protective anger in her eyes. "What the HELL is going on?" She glanced behind him to see the sedated form of Dillandau as Millerna placed him on the bed. He seemed to be awake, slightly, but still drugged. "This is how you treat someone who came in and saved our asses?" She asked with teeth gritted, trying to keep from running to the boy's side and holding him to her. She missed him. She missed her brother.  
  
Allen looked seriously peeved now. "He was planning on taking us to a Zaibach fortress. He would have tortured us, then killed us. Trust me. I know Dillandau quite well."  
  
"Do you?" Persephone whispered through her teeth before passing him, heading closer to the bed. She stepped over great pieces of broken glass which were scattered on the dresser and floor in long, curving slices. It looked as though Dillandau had given a good fight. She pushed Millerna out of the way, leaning over the pale form below her. "Dillandau... Dillandau, it's okay. It's me, Perseph. Everything's going to be-"  
  
A flash of movement, and Persephone could feel a hand on the back of her neck, pushing her forward, while she felt the sharp end of a long shard of glass pressed against her neck. Two, crimson eyes looked up at her, a slight haze over them. She stared back, unblinking, unbreathing, as Dillandau held her, the glass to her throat, cutting into it ever so slightly, drawing a small trickle of blood.  
  
"Persephone-"  
  
She interupted Allen's movements and voice with the raise of one of her hands, never taking her eyes from the boy before her, the boy who was on the verge of taking her life. The boy she couldn't have even defended herself from because she couldn't have brought herself to hurt him.  
  
"Dillandau-"  
  
"You left me." He hissed out, but the words slurred together slightly, giving evidence of the drugs in his system. "You... You, the only one..." He looked confused and unfocused before pressing the blade further into her neck. She let a small grimace flicker across her face for a split second before it was calm again.  
  
"But I'm here now, Brother. I'm here now." She whispered.  
  
"And you'll leave again." His eyes glanced around in a paranoid fashion before resting on her again. "Leave me, alone... You couldn't stay because you didn't care... If you were dead, then it would be a good reason to leave. It wouldn't be because of me-"  
  
"Dillandau, I love you. I love you." She muttered, tears falling down her face. A flickering movement fell across the boy's face and he blinked once, twice... His gaze flowing from a terrible red to a cloudy grey. Tears fell down his face and his hands slid off of her, the glass hitting the ground with a loud shattering sound.  
  
There was a moment of silence, of frozen, disturbed emotion. And then Persephone reached forward and wrapped him in her arms. He readily complied, pushing his head into her chest before falling into a tearful, drug-induced sleep. She rocked him there quietly, her own tears falling on his face and mixing with his own before she pulled away, reluctantly, wiping at the tears on her face before reaching to her stinging and itching neck.  
  
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have drugged him." Millerna said, rushing forward, looking at Persephone's wound. "I expected him to be out cold. If I wouldn't have drugged him then we would have at least seen it coming."  
  
Persephone shook her head, tears pushing their way out again, accepting the truth she already knew. "If you hadn't have drugged him, he would have killed me."  
  
*************  
  
"I've always served under Dillandau." Persephone answered Allen's questions solemnly.  
  
He wanted to doubt her, to question her loyalty... But he knew that she had no obligations to him or his crew and he sighed. They were alone in his room, talking about what had been happening. "You know I can't just let him go, Persephone. He's killed so many of my men, and he's destroyed entire kingdoms with which I am loyal to." Allen said sincerely as he leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his chin in his hands.  
  
"And you know I can't let you kill him." He looked up in surprise at her words, and he saw her staring down at him, the flickering light of that strange, passionate fire in her eyes. It was that glow that made him know that she was dead serious, and it saddened him. He let his gaze drop again.  
  
"What side are you on?" He asked after a moment of silence.  
  
A deep, heavy chuckle followed his words. "Allen, even I don't know what side I am on. My approval and full agreeance is on the side that fights against Zaibach, but my family, the two that I love, are on the side of Zaibach."  
  
"Two?"  
  
Persephone stopped in her thoughts and looked up, now aware of what she had said that he had caught. She looked at him and she saw the dark realization in his eyes. He knew. He knew why she couldn't return his kiss the night before. "Yes. Two."  
  
He sighed before straightening himself in his chair. "I apologize. I did not know you were already taken."  
  
Persephone smiled at the apology, amused and warmed by the code of the knight that was a part of this man's personality. "It should be me to apologize, Allen. You're perfect." Her hand reached out and traced his face, his pointed nose (though now bruised), his pale cheeks, his soft lips. She muttered, seemingly entranced as she stared at him. "If things were different..." She pulled away suddenly and the knight let out a choppy sigh, closing his eyes for a moment before standing.  
  
"We've gotten news that Zaibach is sending out a negotiator to try and bargain back Dillandau. He should be here shortly." Allen didn't give Persephone time to answer as he left. She stared into the fire long after he was gone, pushing farther into his shirt, breathing in his smell. She smiled a bit. She did not love the knight, however fond of him she was. He had a comfortable, familiar air to him. Something good, seemingly sincere and innocent. Like the good and noble boy in your class at school that you can't help but have a crush on. Yet she knew well enough that she could never care for this Heavenly Knight as she had for Folken. Folken was her true love, real and strong and purely hers. Allen was more of a dream, a glimpse of heaven that could be longed for. But knowing Persephone, she would have grown tired of his perfections. And he would have never been fully hers, always belonging to some country or noble cause.  
  
Yet was Folken hers? No. He was hundreds of miles away, devoting his entire life to a lost cause. No, it was not a matter of him being fully hers, but of her being fully his. The Two Towers... Folken, only Folken, could crash through her barriers, see the bare, brutal, hideous side of her and still have love for her. Still care for her. He was beautiful to her, much more entrapping than Allen could ever be. She needed Folken. Only he could brake into her heart fully.  
  
Author's Note: Yes, yes, I know. Dramatic. But did you like? Hopefully we'll get back on track in the upcoming chapters. I'm close to the ends, folks (though that could mean four pages more or forty-four. Hehe.). Well, anyways, review!  
  



	30. Default Chapter Title

Leviathan's Daughter GoldenEagle   
Author's Note: ANOTHER shorter chapter! Ick. Well, it's taken me a few days to put this part up because it was hard for me to write, due to another bout of depression. I kinda struggle with an *chokes on words* eating disorder, which effects my writing sometimes. There's a little personal fact about me to show you how messed up I am. Anyways, no big deal, happens to a lot of people. As for these chapters, I think I may have overdone Persephone a bit, and these just seemed hard. Except for the last. I think I enjoy torturing my charectors when I'm depressed... Speaking of torture, I'm going to go write some more of the Playing God story I wrote. If you're reading that, don't expect the charectors to be all fluffy and good natured. They might even be downright horrible, but that's more fun! Anways, read and review, as always! And enjoy! (if you don't like this installment, tell me, and I could maybe rewrite it...)  
  
Chapter Forty-Two  
  
There were no words said as they stared for a few seconds in silence, a turbulent sea of emotions whipping about in the air between them. It was him that broke the silence, his voice deep and cool and professional.  
  
"Hello, Lord Persephone."  
  
Her mouth gaped a few times, like a fish out of water, before she spoke, a warm smile and glow flowing across her face. "Folken, surely you know better than to call me by the title. Especially now."  
  
The two were standing at the loading bay, where the prince's guymelef had just been docked. Persephone had been waiting, looking to see who Zaibach would send in hopes of retrieving they're insane, pyromaniac captain. She had stepped from the shadows when seeing him, her heart in her throat. And now... It sunk, into the depths of her stomach. He looked at her as if... As if he did not truly know her. Somehow this struck deeper in her heart than a harsh word from him may have done, for there was no anger to cover the hurt. Just the sudden knowledge that it seemed... it seemed as though she had lost him.  
  
He looked back at her coldly, emotionlessly. "Ah, yes. I forgot. You left. Have you found your fate yet?" His tone was slightly sarcastic, carrying notes of a mocking nature.  
  
Persephone was slightly taken back by his tone, and she spoke softly, her eyes squinted in speculation. "Folken... What... What's wrong?" At her question, a flicker of anger crossed his face.   
  
"So, it's you. Why am I not surprised?" A voice from behind the two said. Folken was relieved for the interruption, his emotions too overwhelming, too enraged to keep quiet much longer. She stared at him as if he should take her into his arms, or some such nonsense. But not after what he had seen... The traitor, the liar... The thoughts only angered him more, and he clinched his jaw, pushing them away. He was faced by a boy with ruffled, black hair, his shoulders slightly hunched from habit of drawing his sword. Folken smiled a cold, empty smile. As his flesh and blood, his kind, this family, led him away, he couldn't resist looking back for the woman he had once loved. All he saw was empty air and cold metal.  
  
She had disappeared. He scowled. How typical.  
  
*************  
  
"I'm afraid we can't let him go. He's a war criminal. He must pay for his crimes." Allen's voice was cool as he spoke to the strategist before him.  
  
Folken was brimming with frustration and rage. It didn't help that the man before him was that Schezar, *the* man. He glanced away, gritting his teeth as he spoke. "I have stated very plainly that, if Dillandau is not returned, we will be forced to make an attack on your ship. Is this vengeance really worth that battle?" Grey eyes finally flashed up to meet blue ones, but his gaze was quickly drawn away as he saw her approaching the man from behind.  
  
Her red hair hung lazily around her shoulders, and she had an unreadable look on her face, though she kept Folken's gaze evenly and with strength. Persephone had retreated earlier, overthinking the previous scene, and had come up with little explanations. When she had come in, she noticed Allen's stiff form. As she came to stand beside him, she squeezed his shoulder encouragingly, giving a faint smile to the knight. Folken's scowl deepened. "Let me talk to him." She said to Allen before stepping down and approaching the cloaked figure. She gave him a quizzical, questioning look.  
  
"Why are you acting this way? I mean, why are you looking at me like that? What's going on? Folken-"  
  
He jerked to the side slightly as she reached out to touch him, avoiding her hand. Pain and confusement crossed her face as she stared at him. The look only added more unstable emotions to pile on Folken's shoulders, which only made him more angry.  
  
"I'm sorry if I'm not as warm as you would have wished. I guess things change people." He said with a small, bitter smile on his face, though it looked more like a grimace.  
  
Persephone's face grew more concerned. "Folken, what is it? I know you don't feel that way. The letter, it said-"  
  
"Persephone, maybe we should just deal with this." Allen interupted, far enough away that he couldn't hear what they said, but close enough to see the tension building. Before Persephone could speak, Folken spoke out to her in pure bitterness.  
  
"So, I see you're popular with the boys again." Her gaze snapped back to him, a bit of anger and hurt in her eyes. He chuckled a cold, empty sound. "Yet still playing the innocent, playing the victim. But I know, and you know, that you've enjoyed the male attention, despite your claims." A part of him cried out for him to stop. What he was saying wasn't him. It wasn't him. It was the anger, the jealousy, the pain.  
  
It was out of shame for the words that he let her deliver the blow, cold and hard. He stumbled to the ground, catching himself, before looking up to see her form stiff and strong. She stared down at him, her eyes brimming with a tortured pain and a dying hate. Yet, even as he watched, the rage was traded for tears and her shoulders slumped. She screamed out something he couldn't understand, and he realized with a grim knowledge that he had used the one thing that she was most pained about. He had struck the most vulnerable part of her, a part that was still trying to heal, and had shredded the wound open once more, bringing back memories she had momentarily forgotten. "Persephone..." He choked out. She turned from his words, pushing away his concern. She was gone moments later, running from him, running from a shattered dream.  
  
**********  
  
Allen watched in stunned clarity as words he could not hear were said, then the tension snapped. Persephone raised her hand and brought the back of it down across the strategist's face. A blow from a normal woman would have left a stinging and red cheek, but from the warrior before him, it hit much more true. Folken Strategos stumbled down to the ground, holding a pale face as blood poured from a busted lip.  
  
Persephone stood there for a moment, looking as if she would kill the man. And then she broke, her body slumping, sobs overtaking her. She screamed out something Allen couldn't quite catch, and then she fled. The knight was shocked as he watched the perfect warrior before him turn into the woman she must truly be. Tender, soft, capable of normal and exaggerated emotions. She suddenly didn't seem so minacing as she ran out of the room, her hair tangling, her tears making her eyes swollen and her nose run. She was a woman. She was human.  
  
****************  
  
"What was that about?" Allen growled out as the strategist stood, slightly swaying from the disorientation of the blow.  
  
"Persephone and I have a... complicated... relationship." The man said, rubbing his jaw slightly and wiping the blood from his mouth.   
  
"Relationship?" The younger Van asked, a thin eyebrow raised. Hitomi stayed at his side, slightly behind, though, so that he could draw strength off of her presence. His brother looked up to him with a small glare. If it weren't for the hatred in his brother's eyes, Folken could have mistaken the comment as some sort of sibling tease.  
  
The Zaibach servant didn't say anything in response to the younger boy's words, but continued with the situation at hand. "I am responsible for the boy, even more so since it was me that he was out looking for before being captured. I'm sure there is some deal we can arrange for his safety?"  
  
"I am afraid not." Allen answered, his face stone. Was this the man... The man that Persephone had hinted at... The second of the two? 'Well, if it is, she sure does have a taste in picking trouble...' The thought slightly amused the knight and the ghost of a smile crossed his face. It was gone almost instantly as someone shoved into the room, interrupting the meeting within.  
  
The cat girl ran in on all fours and skidded to a stop, bumping into Folken slightly before jumping back, bristling. Yet, at the same time, she was breathing so fast that she couldn't really speak. Her eyes were wide, her mouth in an "o". "Merle..." Van started, annoyed at the girl's actions.  
  
"Lord Van! You- You ha-have to come quick! Som-something terr-terr-terrible!" She said through wheezes, her big feline eyes brimming with tears. The urgency in her voice seemed out of place in the form of Van's immature partner.  
  
Unnoticed by the others, Hitomi's eyes glazed over slightly. A ringing echoed through her ears, no, an inhuman scream... The same scream she had heard during her tarot reading for Persephone... Gaea's scream. A scene flashed behind Hitomi's closed eyelids. One of machinery, then a flash of tangled red hair surrounding the face of a fallen, unconscious form. And on the ground, matching the vibrancy of the red strands, was a crimson puddle of liquid. Blood.  
  
"Oh, no." Hitomi whispered, her eyes going wide. "Persephone."  
  
The cat girl whimpered, big tears streaming down her face. "Blood... There's so much blood..."  
  
Author's note: Ah, yes, a cliffhanger. What DID happen to Perseph? You don't think it could be... hehe. Maybe, maybe not. You'll just have to wait for the next chapters to find out!  
  



	31. Default Chapter Title

Leviathan's Daughter GoldenEagle   
Author's Note: Another short installment. I liked writing this one, though. Go to my profile! I have a coooooool pic there! YAH! I haven't posted this in a while because of momentary, Leviathan's Daughter writer's block. Plus, I got grounded from the computer (I shouldn't be on it now and I'm in a mad rush to get it posted before Mum gets home!) So, here it is! And check out my profile picture! And read and review! And enjoy! And... Okay, shutting up now.  
  
Chapter Forty-Three  
  
Moments before the last scene...  
  
**************  
  
Persephone was overly upset, she knew so herself. She had calmed herself enough to stop running and start walking, and she cursed herself for being so weak. Those who passed her by looked at her a little too long, but none tried to stop her. They knew better than to mess with her. Among her own tears, she felt the slightest tremor. A part of her feared the worst (at least, she thought so at the time) would come, and she would go into a seizure. But as the shaking increased, a new sense flowed through her. A stabbing pain flashed through her stomach and she bent over a bit, pushing0 herself to the wall. She got flashes, more like emotions, of machinery, fear, and last of all, pain. She slid to the ground, her face echoing with agony.  
  
It was then that people started to actually interact with her. "Are you all right?" A man asked from above. She smiled and nodded through her pain, but was interupted from the gesture as another wave hit her. A screaming sound echoed through her head and she cried out. The cat girl, Merle, bounded over, more of a curious look on her face than that of concern.  
  
A scream was echoing through Persephone's mind. She closed her eyes, but was met by visions. Of an old man, surrounded by metal... Of things twisting, going against what they were supposed to... And then of Gaea, a spirit, crying out as an immense amount of power drained from it. Persephone bent over, suddenly sick. She swallowed deeply before throwing up, but it was only blood that fell against the floor. Again, she hurled... Again... She was dizzy, her vision swimming. She whimpered out. "Gaea... What's... What's happening to me?" She looked up at the horrified feline girl before her. Merle had jumped back, her eyes wide, as she saw the woman's gaze. It was red. Not a flame, but blood, swimming. Tears slipped forth, red. Blood. So much blood...  
  
***********  
  
Allen was the one who arrived on the scene first, her limp body lying in her own blood. He reached over and drew him to his kneeling form. She was trembling violently, blood still on her lips, her brow soaked in a pale sweat, her body terrifyingly cold. It was Millerna who arrived next, pushing past Allen. The other four of the group (that is Hitomi, Van, Merle, and Folken) stood on the outside of the clearing of curious men. Folken felt a cold tremor wash through him as he saw her form below him. "It's just a seizure... She has them sometimes..." He muttered out, trying to convince himself of his own words.  
  
Millerna looked up at him coldly. "That doesn't explain the blood. Even if she bit herself or something..." The princess had little tolerance for Zaibach, nor their men.  
  
Persephone moved slightly, her eyes flickering open. Merle shrunk backwards, knowing the appearance of the two orbs. As for Allen, his own gaze went wide when he saw the red, crimson flow of her eyes, ever shifting. "Something... Something's wrong." She whispered out, red, garnet tears falling down her face. Allen began to pick her up in his arms, but she stopped him. "No, I... I can stand, I think..." And she did so, shakily, with Allen's help.  
  
Her gaze was blurred, a red tint in it, and she looked up. She was weak. She felt her knees give out beneath her, falling, caught by Allen's arms, only to be carried away by a different pair, one of the arms strangely cold...  
  
************  
  
Fire. She was surrounded by fire... She breathed in, her breath hot, her skin burning, blazing. Flashes of flame, and then blue, clear eyes. Ocean. Water. Stepping forward.  
  
A girl, her age, skin pale, hair long, white hair, eyes as blue as the ocean. No, her eyes were the ocean, the tide drawing in and out in her gaze. Wings like a waterfall, singing like a cascade, beautiful, clear water, enwrapping her, soothing her. "These are harsh times, Friend." A voice like a babbling brook, calming her senses. "They misuse the wishes, twist our fate... Kill our world, the one we created. I am sorry. Sorry you are alone..."  
  
"Who... Who are you?" Persephone muttered, closing her eyes tightly. She felt the smile, the cool, ocean breeze against her cheek. No, the angel's breath.  
  
"We are the same and yet complete opposites, Child of Leviathan. You bring the apocalypse of restoration, I bring the peace that follows."  
  
"You are... You are one of my kind. Please, please don't leave me, alone!" Persephone's eyes flew open, choking on sobs, hoping to meet the sea gaze of her equal. Instead she was met with eyes of fog, swirling, shifting mist, looking down at her, coldly and yet with concern. She closed her eyes, willing the pounding in her head to recede. "Folken."  
  
"You've been out for a while, Persephone." He said smoothly. She felt something cool against her flaming cheek and opened her eyes once more. Folken cleaned her face with a wet cloth. She noticed it was smeared crimson.  
  
"What... What happened?"  
  
"I was hoping you could tell me that." Folken answered, his eyes hidden, shrouded over. She blinked slowly, trying to remember.  
  
"I don't... Don't know..." She muttered, brushing away his hand indifferently as he tried to help her as she sat up. She stood, but almost fell to the ground, her legs giving way. Folken caught her against his chest. She looked up as he looked down, their noses brushing. His breath was cool against her cheek. She shuddered at the longing he brought into her system. And yet, had it only been that very day that he had struck her so hard with his accusations? The emotions confused her as he drew a little nearer, his lips only a hair width's from touching hers. In the sudden confusion of feelings, she spoke. "I'm scared, Folken." He stopped, broken from his trance, and pulled away, his breath uneven, chills traveling up and down his spine. She drew near to him, laying her head against his broad shoulders, closing her eyes, tears coursing down. "It's Gaea, Folken. Someone is using her power, killing her." She pulled away and looked up at him. "I think... I think they're killing me, too, Folken."  
  
"Dornkirk..." He muttered. "The Machine..." He swallowed deeply as he looked at her, the very proof of her observations sliding across her cheeks.  
  
"What?" She muttered, shying at the suddenly frightened look on his face. "The Machine? What are you talking about, Fol-"  
  
He turned her by her shoulders suddenly and moved his body, which had been obscuring her view of the mirror behind him. She gasped, pushing back, into his chest. Her eyes were crimson, deep and dark, a black red. The color of blood. Garnet stripes twisted about her face. She was confused by these markings before another tear escaped her. Crimson tears. Blood. Folken spoke as she stared, confused at the image before her. "I have helped Emperor Dornkirk Design a Machine which can alter fate. It draws off of some unknown energy..."  
  
"Gaea." She hissed, turning on him, her eyes pained and terrified at the same time. She brought her fists against his chest once before pushing into him. "You're drawing off of Gaea's life force. Just as she depends on my life, I depend on hers. You're killing me, Folken. You're killing me."   
  



	32. Default Chapter Title

Leviathan's Daughter  
GoldenEagle   
Author's Notes: I enjoyed this chapter. As for Rebecca, I'm actually thinking about following out your request, but it would be in one of the last chapters. I skipped school today (shh! Don't tell Mum!), but I was sick, too, and she was at work till seven so I stayed home. I don't know WHY I'm sick all the time... If we get counted absent six times in one class during a symester, then we have to retake the class, like repeat! Egh... I'm getting close to that number... But, anyways, I hope you guys like this chapter! I sware, I am drawing to a close! Don't quote me on this, but I might be finishing up by the end of next week. So... Read and review! Oh, yeah, and here is a normal sized piece, longer than the last few.  
  
Chapter Forty-Four  
  
"How is she doing?" Folken spun around at the voice, his quick motions added onto his stress and exhaustion, making him light headed. He warily took note of the blonde knight before turning back around, sighing, and taking in the passing scenery that played far below.  
  
"She is taking everything quite well. Emotionally, I think she's torn in several directions. As far a physically, she's not feeling well. I left her asleep after she ate." Folken was too tired, too drained to hold any hate for the other man now. All he held was a strange, ever growing pain, like the tightening of a noose around one's neck.  
  
Allen came to stand by him. He had let the strategist go in and deal with Persephone, knowing well enough that they went much farther back than anyone else on the ship, perhaps excluding the still drugged Dillandau. Allen smiled a little bit, his gaze also being drawn to the passing view. "I know Persephone. She'll get through whatever is going on and in the end, she'll be stronger for it."  
  
"I'm sure you do know her." Folken said, the smallest bit of jealousy creeping into him, tainting his words bitter. Allen snapped out of his daze as he heard the tone, and he glanced at the man out of the corner of his eyes, through his golden hair.  
  
He straightened himself, carefully masking any emotions that might make him look more than just curious. "You were there, weren't you?"  
  
Folken was taken aback by this question, blinking rapidly before turning towards the knight. "Where?"  
  
"At the festival. That would explain why your Dillandau was so far from Zaibach's protection in search of you, and why he was there when we were captured." Allen said, as if it were no big deal. In reality, he had something on his mind that he was leading up to.  
  
The strategist sighed, all his pride and strength completely sapped. "Yes. I was there. I had heard that you and your party were to go speak with the King of Mirama. I had... personal matters with which I wished to discuss with some of your party."  
  
"Oh?" Allen said, his eyebrows raised. "And what were those?"  
  
"They were personal matters." He said, making it obvious that he did not want to delve into that question.  
  
After a long pause, the knight decided to go ahead and delve into the subject he had been trying, unsuccessfully, to bring about subtly. "You saw me kiss Persephone." It was a statement and it took Folken by such surprise that he actually took a small step back, an envious, deep tremor rising in him. When he said nothing, Allen continued. "I have to admit that I hold a certain grudge against you, Folken Strategos. I'm afraid I'm rather jealous of you." He turned back to the window, averting his gaze from the other man.  
  
Folken was even more shocked by this one statement than any before. "Jealous? Of me?" He asked, becoming suddenly aware that he was delving into some rather unstable topics with an adversary. "Why?" He asked, an unreadable paranoia seeping into him.  
  
Allen turned back and smiled slightly. "She loves you." He replied in a sincere tone. "To think, I can hear the jealousy in your voice for me even as I feel the same thing towards you. She's right here, in my ship, in my life, and yet she will not be mine. And yet she is in your adversaries forces, in a different world entirely from you, no longer truly in you life, and she is wholly yours. Now tell me, Sir Folken, who is the one with the right to be jealous?" The knight struggled to keep his voice from sounding too bitter, but his words were poisoned with the emotions.  
  
Again, Folken was struck speechless. "But... But she... She..."  
  
"Kissed me?" The knight laughed emptily as he spoke the words. "Wrong, Strategos. I kissed her. She did not return the endearment." Folken heaved a huge, heavy sigh of relief. "Don't let her slip through your fingers. She's worth more than a thousand Zaibach's, a million Asturias, and an eternity of Gaeas. I am not afraid to say that I love her. But she only has eyes for you. If you take that for granted, you're a fool..."  
  
************  
  
Persephone was bent over, on her knees, shaking, pale, staring down at the toilet before her. Her body heaved once more and more food spilled from her mouth. A tremor forced it's way up through her, and her head twitched to the side momentarily. Tears streamed down her face, more of the tears forced out by the vomiting, but some out of pure fear. She held her hair back with one hand, the other supporting her. Strays constantly fell forward and she'd have to reach for them and pull them back so that they wouldn't get dirty. Another wrenching swept through her, and she choked as her body tried to expel food that was no longer there, it already having been taken care of by her sick form.   
  
She felt sick. Much more sick than she had ever in the past. After first waking up, first finding the truth, she had felt fine, despite the detection of a slight fever. And now she felt horrible. She became nautious at anything that entered her stomach, whether food or water, and she had horrible migraines. Atop of that, she would brake into cold sweats and could detect some delirium slipping into her mind before she forced it away. Along with that, she would have times when time would escape her, and she'd find herself laying on the bed, or the cold metal floor. That is how she knew when the seizures had hit, when she couldn't remember how she had ended up in some strange, cramped position. Her body betrayed her. She cried for comfort, wanting to scream out for him, have someone hold her...  
  
'No, I want cry out for him. I can be strong. Plus, I don't want him to see me like this-'  
  
"Persephone?" His voice was cautious through the bathroom's closed door. One moan escaped her that was louder than the rest. Had her body betrayed her once more? Had she called out his name, despite her reasoning why she should not? The door began to open to where she was, bent over.   
  
"Don't come in." She said in a slurred, broken voice, and yet it was desperate at the same time. She would have said more, maybe told him that she just wasn't feeling well, but another wave of heaving hit her and she leaned over the toilet. It was another dry gag, and it left her stomach sore and aching horribly. This times the tears that came were more out of frustration and despair than just physical pain and her shoulders shook with tired sobs. She felt another wave of nasea start to build up, and prepared herself, leaning over the toilet farther, reaching forward to capture a few stray hairs-  
  
Her hand was brushed aside by another. Her face flashed up and was met by Folken's own concerned one. He gathered her hair, his fingertips brushing her fever-red cheeks as he captured those strands which rested against her face. "I told you to stay ou-" Yet she was interupted as the nasea erupted, and she leaned forward again, dry hacking, trembling, and the slowly sliding down, too exhausted to hold herself any longer. Folken slid her collapsing body to him. The heat that radiated off of him onto her merged with her fever, and she felt unbelievably dizzy and yet, at the same time... In need? Lustful? She moaned, leaning further into him, his scent surrounding her, leaving nothing but him in her being, as he picked her up, carrying her out of the restroom.  
  
He laid her down onto her bed and her eyes opened to him. They were back to their beautiful blue, except for a few swirls of that blood red, and her tears were crystal once more. He placed his hand on her cheek. It was so hot that it felt as if it were burning him, and yet the heat increased, spread from his hand throughout his entire body, as she turned her face slightly and kissed his fingertips. At first, it could have been mistaken as a thankful gesture, but with each touch of her lips to his flesh he could see her become more dazed, more drugged. Her lips moved down to the palm of his hand. He jerked slightly as he felt electricity flow up his arms, down his spine. "Persephone..." He whispered out, warning her of... Of what? Of what she was doing to him?  
  
As she looked up to him, he felt even more uncomfortable, even more starved. Had anyone ever looked at him so? Their eyes half lowered, their lips swollen... He shuddered. "Stay with me..." She muttered, inching to the side so that there was room on the bed next to her. He swallowed deeply, everything in his mind screaming at him. 'What are you doing?!' His conscience screamed as he lowered himself next to her. 'She's sick, she's weak, and you... You're acting like a horny teenager!' And yet he couldn't stop himself, drawing closer to her, his lips resting in-between her eyes, his breath blowing calmly at the top of her head.  
  
She was the one that drew the closest, making his breath catch in his throat. She pushed herself against him, fitting her body shape with his every curve, her chest against his chest, her arms around his neck, her hips against his hips... "Persephone, I..." He choked on his own words and she moved her head to the side, kissing the side of his mouth, traveling up to his jawline, his ear... And then she lay still, slumped against him in the most provocative matter, asleep. It took him a while to calm himself, gather his thoughts, and he reached out his arms around her, pressing her even closer to him. An unnoticed tear crept down his cheek and onto her face. Had he ever longed for anyone as he longed for her? He could spend forever just watching her, and yet, at times like these, he wanted more... Despite the fact that she was crushed against his form, he wanted to be closer... Closer... And he knew, well enough, that, in the end, he would be hundreds of miles from her. More tears fell, in longing, in loss, in hopeless hopes...  
  
**************  
  
Folken looked down at her, one last time, as he dawned his coat. She slept peacefully, the slightest smile on her cheeks, the fever leaving at some time during the night. He moved from the bed slowly, making sure not to wake her as he stood. It felt as if a dagger had struck him as he forced himself to ready for departure. And to think, within the next day, he would have to send Zaibach upon this fortress, upon his love, because they had not come to an agreement. There was the possibility that she may be killed (though he doubted that). There was also the possibility that Dillandau might be killed. He didn't know which would please Persephone less.  
  
"Goodbye, Persephone. I..." He stopped, leaning over her, trying to gather his words. "I love you." With a small, light kiss on her parted lips, he left.  
  
A pair of blue eyes fluttered open as the door closed. They brimmed with tears momentarily before she pulled herself up, the only sign of her sickness from the following day was her thirst. She looked down at her trembling hands as three crystal tears escaped, but no more. She had business to attend to. "You know I can't let you kill Dillandau, Allen." She muttered to the empty room before standing and leaving, preparing for what must come.  
  



	33. Default Chapter Title

Leviathan's Daughter  
GoldenEagle   
Author's Notes: Howdy! What's up? Me? I'm exhausted. I've had the busiest week. I would have had this out earlier, but haven't been able to get on to FF.net all weekend. That mention in the last chapter about finishing this by next week? Out of the question. I'm hardly finding the time AT ALL to write this story. I have a huge report in English going on, and a big speech coming up. School's a drag, no? I have like a million and one things going on in my head right now as far as plots, but I can't start writing until I get done with this story and go further into the Playing God thing going on. But, I hope you guys enjoy. Read and review!  
  
Chapter Forty-Five  
  
"How long will it take?" The man asked, a flowing cape surrounding him, protecting him from the drafts that filtered through the docking area of the ship.  
  
"It'll probably be about thirty minutes before you can get her out of here. The area we're flying over is pretty foggy. It would probably be extremely dangerous to let your guymelef out here." A man with grease and other odd liquids smeared across his face said gruffly. He tilted his head towards the huge, grand guymelef while saying this.  
  
Folken nodded his head, not seeing any reason to take the chance of wrecking his guymelef, especially if it was only going to mean him being half an hour late. "I'll wait." The mechanic nodded before turning away, exiting the area. Though the place was full of guymelefs and other assorted things, it was empty of human life. That is, excluding Folken. He was not surprised that no one showed to wish him a well journey. Would that perfect knight in love with his lover come? Would the brother that hates him come? No, of course not. Someone who even hoped so would be a fool.  
  
Folken turned swiftly when he heard the slight noise of a door sliding open. The area in which the noise had come from was shrouded in shadows, and he tried to see through them the best he could. Yet the person stayed in the blackness, which made the strategist suspicious, nervous. He drew his sword, quick and easily.  
  
"Relax, Folken. It's me." A feminine voice said, barely heard over the silence of the room. Folken's heartbeat rose as he resheathed his sword.  
  
"Persephone..." He muttered, his throat dry. I weak, dying hope rose within him. Perhaps... Perhaps she was here to come with him... She stepped from the shadows, and he took a step towards her, powerful and confident, but then froze as she came into view fully. He was surprised as he took in her weary form. "Persephone...? What... What the hell are you doing?!" He said through gritted teeth. He was returned with a smile, small and mocking and warm, all at the same time.  
  
The form in her arms shifted contentedly in his drug induced sleep. Dillandau soon went motionless again and Persephone moved forward, brushing past Folken, before coming to his guymelef. She laid him down at the machine's feet and sighed, leaning back on her heels as she tried to take control of her thoughts. To get Dillandau out she had merely slipped into his room after bringing down the two guards. She hoped she hadn't killed that one... She grimaced, remembering the blood that flowed from the wound in his side.  
  
"Doing this... It gives them every reason and excuse to kill you, and it gains you nothing with Zaibach." Folken said coldly as Persephone rose, her red hair obscuring her view slightly.  
  
"I'm not doing this for Zaibach, Folken. You know that full well." She replied. "Besides, Allen would never be able to order my execution." She looked down and started to play with her fingers a bit, a small and rare blush rising in her cheeks. "And I'd... I'd like to apologize... About whatever happened last night..." She murmured.  
  
"What do you mean?" Folken asked, one of his eyebrows raised quizzically.  
  
"Perhaps you could... tell me?" She said, finally glancing up.  
  
His brow furrowed. "Is this some sort of... philosophical question? Rhetorical, perhaps?"  
  
At this, she grinned, the brilliance of her smile out shining the glow of her cheeks. "What I meant is, I really, really don't remember what happened last night. I just woke up, and you were there, sutting in bed... with me... putting on your cape..." She muttered. She grew more red, and her cheeks blended with her hair.  
  
Folken looked down at her with his icy stare. "How could you not remember? I, on the other hand, will not be able to clear my mind from it for weeks! Plus, you really didn't have to bite that hard..." By this point, the boy part of Folken, the Prince of Fanalia, in all his mischievous joys, could not hold back the grin any longer.  
  
Persephone, who had been growing less and less comfortable as he continued, took in his expression through her rising panic slowly. And then it hit her. A pair of blue eyes went wide in a look that couldn't quite decide if it was humored or enraged. "You little rat!" She screeched. Laughter cascaded from his lips as he tilted his head back gleefully. She broke into a full smile and began to laugh with him. The sounds blended in a beautiful and impossible chorus.  
  
After a long moment of this, Folken's laughter faded away, and so did Persephone's. She wiped the tears from her eyes and looked up at him. He smiled down at her and spoke, his voice warm and caring for once. "We really should get out some time. A night away from this war, just you and me, escape from all this."  
  
"It would be a date." She said, returning his smile. Her attention was drawn away from his grey eyes by the sound of someone stirring. She turned her head and saw Dillandau, shifting on the metal floor. Outside, the fog was starting to clear. She frowned. Things were coming to the familiar close, and he would leave, and then they would be apart for a while. But surely... Surely fate was not cruel enough to make their stay apart be too long. She looked back to Folken, taking in his form like a camera, photographing him in her mind, etching out his features. His gaze was on the opening to the docking area as well, a troubled look on his face. The light played off of his hair in a glowing sheen and she could detect the smallest beginnings of lines and wrinkles on his pale features. They were the indications of his turbulent life, just as the tear tattooed on his cheek was a sign that he belonged to Zaibach. Belonged to Zaibach. Persephone shuttered.  
  
The two were interupted from their reverie by the commotion of yelling and movement outside. They heard unintelligible muffles from the closed door before one sentence floated through. "The prisoner has escaped!" Folken stiffened, his eyes flashing to Persephone's form. She looked up at him, a sad smile on her face.  
  
"That would be your que to take Dillandau and leave." She said strongly, but her voice was below a whisper, more like a thought on a breeze.  
  
"Come with me." He hissed, his eyes narrowing. "Come with me. Back to Zaibach."  
  
"What life do I have there?" She asked, her face going cold. "They would kill me-"   
"I would protect you! Hide you, if I must-"  
  
"I can't." She said, tears welling in her eyes. "What would I have there? I wouldn't even have my own life."  
  
"You'd have me."  
  
Her eyes darted up to his. They were desperate, grasping, just as they had been the first time she had left him. "That's not fair..." She growled, tears spilling down her face. "You promised..." She muttered. "You promised you wouldn't try to bring me back."  
  
"I lied." He said.  
  
"Leave." She muttered, blocking him from being able to read her emotions, though he knew them full well. "You have to. They will kill Dillandau, and you, if they have the chance. Save yourself. Save Dillandau. I will be fine." She muttered. A look of pain and yet strong resolution flowed over Folken's pale features before he turned to leave.  
  
The door across the docking bay burst open, a group of men rushing into the area. In this group was Van, Hitomi, and Allen, leading the rest. Just as Folken was about to hurry towards his guymelef, one strong, slim hand grasped his arm. He turned quickly before feeling heat engulf his lips. Persephone leaned into the kiss harder, painfully so. But the pain was welcomed and Folken returned the embrace, his teeth nibbling at her bottom lip violently, drawing a little blood, his tongue rushing to meet hers. Heat spread through his body, his longing and lust for her erupting at a very untimely moment, as Allen's men froze at the scene of passion before them.  
  
It was Persephone who pulled away reluctantly. Folken pushed forward and ran his lips lightly against hers, once, twice, before she pushed him away fully. He opened his eyes to see her, inches away. She spoke, determination and trust in her voice, making it sound harsh, intimidating. "Remember." She said in a low voice. "You promised me a night."  
  
He swallowed deeply before pushing forward, giving her a short yet sincere kiss, in promise, before rushing back to his guymelef. The men, on seeing this, ran forward once more. Persephone looked up, knowing there was not enough time for Folken to escape. She turned to face the oncoming crowd, her eyes catching aflame, her hands clenched tightly at her side as she tried to drive away the weakness. And yet it was the pain that consumed her, the pain of loss, bitter sweet memories of him, here... As Allen's men stopped to gawk, tears fell down her pale cheeks.  
  
*******************  
  
Hitomi was more surprised at her feelings towards the new found couple before her than surprised by the actual scene. She was taken back because she had not been surprised at all that Persephone and Folken were lovers, for they must have been by the embrace they had share with each other.  
  
Soon, the Zaibach strategist was rushing to his guymelef, Dillandau's unconscious form at the machine's feet. Persephone turned to meet the onrushing crowd, her eyes suddenly glowing with fire. With the closing of her eyes, the lights on the Crusade flickered and two wings of pure fire erupted from her back. Again, Allen's men froze in quiet awe, never seeing them before. "Persephone, let us by!" Allen cried, noting the guymelef behind her springing to life, reaching forward and grasping Dillandau's limp form, then starting to go into flight mode.  
  
Persephone's form rose a bit, her feet hanging down, about half a foot off the ground. Her wings guarded their passage to the escaping Zaibach soldiers completely. Even as Allen pleaded with her to let them pass, he knew that the two had already escaped, the machine dropping off the edge of the platform, disappearing from sight.  
  
"They're gone." The knight muttered. "Come on, Perseph." She didn't reply, her wings blazing at her side, tears falling down her face, her eyes closed. It was Hitomi that found the courage first, stepping past the onlookers.  
  
"Hitomi-"  
  
"It's okay, Van." She said, not even bothering to look back. He stayed silent, watching her approach the creature before them. This Guardian of Atlantis.  
  
"Persephone..." The girl muttered. The heat on her face grew stronger and stronger. She raised her arm to guard her from the flames licking out, the air around the two girls so engulfed with the heat that it shifted and danced before Hitomi's eyes. "Persephone, come down here." She said, quietly, as she drew closer. The flames scorched her clothes and burned her slightly, reddening her skin. She reached forward, two fingers outstretched. Hitomi thought she heard Van yell at her to back off, but she wasn't sure. She was only aware of the fire around her, the flames cooking her alive. Too hot... Surely it was too hot, even for Persephone...  
  
Her fingers touched the other girl's cheek slightly, feeling the cool touch of a tear before it evaporated into the air. The woman's eyes snapped open, blue, meeting the green gaze of the girl before her. The full look of sanity crossed her face and the wings flickered before going out. Hitomi thought that, for a split second, she could see wings of flesh, pure white feathers, just as Van's were... But then the mirage was gone, the feathers fading to nothing. Persephone's feet hit the floor softly and she leaned forward, into the younger girl's form.  
  
Hitomi embraced her fully, pulling her to her much as a mother may do a child.   
  
Author's Note: Oh, yeah! I had another bout of writer's block for this story because of all the stress lately, but I got the Dido CD, No Angel, and that TOTALLY inspired me. Especially My Lover's Gone or something along that line and Here With Me. Oh, I also like the Hunter song. That's cool. If you have that CD, you know what I'm talking about. If you don't have the Dido CD, I'd like to say YOU'RE A LOSER! *cackles insanely* Naw. I'm kidding. But you really should get it. If you don't, you're missing out.   
  
  
  



	34. Default Chapter Title

Leviathan's Daughter  
GoldenEagle   
Author's Notes: A few more large components and Leviathan's Daughter will come to an end! *eyes get teary* Aw, I hate saying good byes! But the end isn't in this chapter. Nope, this opens up to the next events, which all lead up to the ending, so I hope you enjoy! If you don't, remember that I was tired and stayed up till 2 a.m. writing it! So, if it's bad, it's because I'm tired! *whines* I had a sucky weekend. I went to this stupid church camp thing and got in trouble for belly dancing during the activities. What's so wrong with moving your hips?! They thought I was suggestive or something. Like I was trying to turn the guy on. For God's sake, I haven't even had my first kiss so why would I try to make some stranger horny?! I have a doll face and wide, green eyes, so I usually look naturally innocent. It looks weird with me, because I have this childishly innocent look, but I'm also tall and look seventeen, or so I'm told, although I'm only fourteen. So people think I'm like faking it to get attention, which makes people mad (especially overprotective girlfriends). I sware, I'm not that innocent! I'm not that bad, either! *growls* People are such BAKAS!!!! Anyways, I hope you enjoy the story. If you read through this little rant, you need to go find something to clear your head of the trash. So why don't you read and review!  
  
Chapter Forty-Six  
  
"Allen, let me out! Allen, God damn it!" Persephone's frustrated voice could be heard through the thick, metal door. She pounded on it one last time with bruised fists before laying her head against the cool metal. She pulled away and walked slowly to the knight's bed. He had locked her in his room after she had been carried there, tired and drained of strength. When she had awoke she had risen to go find Allen or Hitomi or even Van (especially Van, for he had some of his older brother in him and she couldn't help but be comforted by the slight similarities between them). And yet she had found the door locked. She knew it was stupid that she had been pounding and yelling for nearly an hour, but she was growing agitated, claustrophobic.  
  
She heard the door open a crack and raised her head. She started to stand for whoever may come in, but instead she didn't even see the person as they shoved some cold plate of food through the crack and slammed the door shut. She growled. She was no animal, no prisoner, to be kept in some dinky little room with a closet full of male clothing that looked exactly the same! The very room was too neat, too tidy. Persephone promptly pulled out drawers and tangled the sheets on the bed in a mad fit before plopping down on the floor, which now had clothing and other items strewn about, while pouting. She sat there, her arms crossed, her bottom lip out, for almost an hour, staring at the closed entrance to the room, before she started to nod off. She sighed in surrender and stood before going to lay down on the bed, cursing herself because the sheets were still tangled from her earlier tantrum and she was too tired to straighten them and draw them over her. Instead she fell asleep almost instantly, the room wrecked around her.  
  
*************  
  
It had been a few days since Folken had left the Schezerade and Persephone was still locked in that room with one adjoining restroom and three cold meals a day. Allen had been sleeping in her old room when he had the chance to sleep at all. He had no idea of what to do with her. If it weren't for the feelings he harbored towards her, along with the unstable trust, he would have handed her over to the people, whether his men or the men of Mirama. Yet he knew full well what they would have done to her. His men would have had her executed, perhaps a beheading or hanging, and Mirama's people? The knight had the feeling that they would have had her burned at the stake, relishing in seeing the one who had set their precious capital on flame burn herself.  
  
So he had made her a prisoner, but giving her the luxuries of a bed and running toilet, things she would not have had if thrown in the dungeon. Plus, they still had... er... repairs to go through from her last visit there.   
  
"So, Boss, what do you think?" Allen snapped back into attention as Gadeth spoke. He looked up, slightly aware, through his subconscious, what had just been said.  
  
"Mirama wasn't exactly endearing last time we came to them." Allen replied.  
  
"Yes, but which is the greater enemy? Mirama or Zaibach? We need to get involved in this battle, Allen. If we can keep Zaibach from taking Mirama's forces... We'd have a better chance."  
  
"Where is this battle again?" The knight asked, rubbing his temples with a gloved hand.  
  
"Inbetween the city's of Golgotha and Caveman, around the remains of Corinth. The two army's will meet there. The battle will be close, everyone knows so. Even though our forces are small, they may help. Plus, we may gain favor in the eyes of Mirama's people."  
  
"Politics. It always ends in that, doesn't it?" Allen asked. He didn't wait for a reply before speaking again. "We'll move out tonight. The battle should start before dawn, I assume?" Gadeth nodded in reply. "Good. Are you coming with us, Van?"  
  
The raven haired boy paused and then nodded, his bangs falling across his crimson eyes. Hitomi fidgeted next to him as a feeling of dread encompassed her. She closed her eyes as flashes of visions flowed through her consciousness, but left too soon to be understood. All she could catch hold of was a reptilian eye, the pupil like a triangle, and amid that inhuman eye a completely human component. A tear. A dragon's tear.  
  
*************  
  
Persephone was piled under blankets. It wouldn't be long before her food would be pushed through the crack of the door, for it always came at the same time, every day, just as they had for the last six days. She would always take the food and force it down the toilet before placing the plate by the door to be taken away every morning. Her agitation of the small room destroyed her appetite, but she did not want the others to know she was distressed. It was pride, she knew. A pride she had forgotten about, though always there.  
  
Persephone shivered, not from the cold on the outside of her being, but on the inside. A hand of ice gripped at her mind, clawing into it, forcing her thoughts elsewhere. But where? She was being pulled from the inside out, drawn by an invisible hand to some place. To some destiny. She closed her eyes, trying to get rid of the nagging thoughts of her mind. And yet, even as she did so, a voice floated back to her, a voice from long ago. The vision played in her head.  
  
A large room, the first realizations that she was not on earth anymore... A voice, a woman's voice, warm yet shallow, caring yet selfish. 'Here, let me get those chains off of you. I don't understand why a person would put chains on such a modest looking girl.' The woman had said as she unshackled Persephone. 'I'm Zenla.'  
  
'I'm Persephone,' the child, for she was so young at the time, only fourteen, had said quietly as she rubbed her wrists and ankles. She had looked oddly up at the woman. "Why am I here?"  
  
The woman had chuckled warmly as the guards closed the door behind her, one standing on the outside, one still on the inside. ''Twas fate, child. Everything is of fate...'  
  
Fate.  
  
The maid had spoken so confidently about it. Persephone bit her bottom lip as the urge came again, trying to drag her, force her out of the locked room, to... To where? Her fate... Her fate was that of Gaea's. And though she was drawn, pulled, pushed to leave and return to the place of her first battle, she could see the end of that road, as all roads of life end. A certain finality. Whether opening up to a new part of one's life or closing it, bringing about an end. She was not sure which it was, but she knew one thing... She had to leave. She had to return to the place she had destroyed. Her fate, her destiny called her back, lulled her back, forced her back. Back to Corinth.  
  
**************  
  
Allen and Van, along with other men beneath the knight, had left only about an hour ago, and Hitomi was plagued, pestered, and horrified as impossible visions, blurry and confused, flashed through her mind. When they had finally settled themselves out, she had seen the scene, the vision which couldn't possibly be, a vision of blood and death. It was clear in her mind and it frightened and panged her, so she walked, with fists clenched, down cold hallways. She was unsure how she got to the place, since she hadn't remembered taking the turns necessary to reach the door, but when she did, she froze.  
  
A man lay unconscious on the floor, a heavy metal door open, cold food scattered beneath the man. "Persephone." Hitomi muttered, her eyes wide, her legs weak, as the impossibility of her visions started to become more possible. The slightest bit of movement, red and flowing, caught her sight at the end of the hall, which turned and reached out to an exit. The figure was gone almost instantly, like a flash of lightening, but Hitomi gave chase. "Persephone, stop! Come back!" She cried out as she rounded the corner. Yes, she could see the older girl at the end of the hall, opening up the door to the outside.  
  
The figure turned quietly as the younger girl skidded to a halt before her, hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. "Don't... Don't go." She said through shallow breaths. The sudden breathlessness was partially due to the short sprint, but mostly due to Hitomi's overemotional state.  
  
Persephone raised an eyebrow. "What's going on?" She asked calmly, placing her hand on the runner's shoulder, trying to comfort her, even though she knew little of comfort.  
  
Two green eyes rose to meet hers. "Allen and Van left with a group of men to go take part in a battle against Zaibach at the remnants of Corinth. I've had... visions... of someone dying. Please, you can't go."  
  
Persephone's gaze hardened as Hitomi spoke of the battle and Corinth. The hand that had been on her shoulder lowered and flexed around the handle of her curved sword, which was in it's scabbard at her waist. "Then I have to go." She looked Hitomi in the eye. "I promise I won't let Van or Allen die, okay?"   
  
Tears welled in Hitomi's eyes as Persephone tried to comfort her. God, if only she knew... "It's not that, Persephone. Just, please, trust me, don't go tonight! Maybe in the morning, but not tonight! You don't understand-"  
  
"Look, Hitomi, something is calling me to that battle. Now, I know you're frightened about this whole vision thing, but I promise I won't let the two of them die." She gave a hug to the paling girl before jumping into the darkness and disappearing. Hitomi stood, dumbfounded, distressed, before wrapping her arms around herself. Crystal tears fell from her green eyes as the light of the two moons shone down through the doorway.  
  
"But, Persephone," she whispered to the empty scenery. "The person... The person laying in their own blood... it was you."  
  
Author's Notes: MWAHAHAHAHA! Sooooo, Hitomi's seen Perseph's death, eh? Could she be wrong for once? You'll find out next time on *announcer music* Leviathan's Daughter! (Stay tuned for a word from our sponsors!) *High pitched music comes on as obviously dead fish start wiggling and dancing on the screen. You can see hand behind the fish, holding them to make them dance* Tuna, Tuna, what's life without Tuna?! Tuna, Tuna, the other white meat! So buy your dolphin safe- *places hand to ear as he listens to the mic. in it* Umm... Well, apparently we're too freaking poor to be dolphin safe tuna, so we've changed our logo to tuna safe dolphin! Dolphin, the other white meat! *music faces as you see dancing tuna replaced with dead, dancing dolphins* (Hey, I love dolphins, too, but I'm insane at the moment, so MWAHAHAHAHAHA to you!)  
  
  



	35. Default Chapter Title

Leviathan's Daughter  
GoldenEagle   
Author's Notes: Hey, everybody! This is the LONGEST installment yet, but it is a very, very, VERY important installment. I spent a long time on it and it IS rather descriptive, so I apologize for those who find that boring. Another quick thing. I'd like to ask that if you have anything to say to me, something you believe about my personal charector, please do so in an email or something. I really, really don't enjoy being called a slut at all, much less one in front of all these people who I'm writing for. I'm not too angry, because it's absurdly untrue, but I am kind of upset and offended. Plus, it just shows an extreme lack of respect to me as a writer to bash me in front of my readers, cause it really does matter to me what you guys think of me. That's all I really wanted to say about that, and that's it. I won't say anything more, it's a forgotten matter from here on out, just please take what I said into consideration. Thakyou. Now, please, enjoy the story and review!  
  
Chapter Forty-Seven  
  
"Agh!" The grunt melded in with the sounds of battle, unheard even by the one who issued it. Persephone took no time in her usual games, her usual teasing before the kill (a thing that she had picked up on from Dillandau... or perhaps Dillandau picked it up off of her...?). She swung and hit flesh, turned again, stained blade singing in the air, hit more flesh, and so it went. She had arrived deep into the battle and, although she had charged in not half an hour ago, she was in the midst of it. Her arms screamed with pain, her stomach cramped with effort, her legs quaked beneath her. Yet still she fought. She silently cursed herself for not taking the time to saddle a horse to bring to the battle, for she was still tired from her run here.   
  
It was hard to tell if the blood that covered her was her own or her enemy's, for it melted together and there was so much collective agony in her muscles and bones that she couldn't decipher from a cramp or a cut. She was trying to find the time, the time to look around, look for those she had promised Hitomi she would protect. A warm, gasping body barreled into hers and she turned, bringing her blade above her head and bringing it down on instinct.  
  
She was shattered from her battle rage as her blade met her opponents, for few had blocked her swift movements the entire fight. She was pulled even further into her rational mind as two blue eyes stared back at her through crimson stained blonde strands.  
  
"Allen..." She muttered, noticing for the first time that her lips were cracked, suddenly realizing that she had somehow received numerous lacerations over her entire body. Now that she had been torn from the blood bath around her, torn from her primal instincts of survival into the world of human emotions and fears, she could feel the weariness in her limbs. Her legs threatened to give out beneath the weight of her body, but did not do so since most of her weight was focused on the blade which the knight before her was holding with his own.  
  
"Persephone, what the hell are you doing here?!" Allen's voice could barely be heard above the roar of the battle surrounding them. Fear and despair distorted his wide, blue eyes. She had no time to speak before his blade moved like a snake and whipped out behind her. She turned quickly, her back being pushed across the knight's broad chest as a body fell against her. Allen easily pushed the body from her and turned once more to the battle. Persephone stumbled a bit as her weight was suddenly fully redeposited on her shaking legs, but she quickly recovered, raising her sword once more as the enemy pressed down upon her. She was pushed back to back with a form behind her and sighed in relief as she realized it was Allen.  
  
"Where is Van?" She screamed out over the battle cries around them.  
  
She heard the knight reply, his voice close to her ear, each slightly leaning on each other for support as they brought down adversary after adversary. "He's retrieving Escaflowne!" Allen cried out through gasps for air. Sweat gleamed off of his warmly toned skin, mixing with clinging and sticky blood. "My own guymelef was brought down during the fight. Mirama's troops-" Allen was momentarily interupted as one Zaibach soldier attacked him more violently and strongly that the others. He brought him down in a matter of seconds before continuing. "Mirama's troops have already been called out, but we and many of the army are still trapped here. Zaibach was stronger than we thought. They came at us with perfect form, perfect timing. The formation was pure genius, really."  
  
'I see Folken has been at work.' Persephone thought grimly and yet proudly as she was charged by the enemy. Her blade met his, but her body betrayed her, her arms going out. Her sword fell from her grasp and she stumbled more fully into Allen's back, throwing him off balance, causing the knight to get a deep cut across his chest. The man that attacked Persephone glowered over her, victory in his eyes as he brought down his sword over his head. She caught the blade with her bare, exposed hands, and cried out as the metal bit deep into her palms. She had once had a sword such as this, so she knew the Zaibach soldier had a low rank in the military, for the blade was dull. She was thankful for this, for, if it had been a blade of better quality, as hers had been after her return from training, it would have cut clear through her hands and met her forehead, slicing through her scalp, her skull, into her brain... "Allen!" The cry was pain filled, feminine, and no longer calm, but slightly panicked as she slid to her knees.  
  
She saw him turn out of the corner of her eye, a look of natural annoyance in his gaze, for he was exhausted from the battle and she, someone who should have stayed on his ship, had caused him a very painful wound deep across his chest. But as he took her in, the pain and fear embedded deep within her stance, the feminine and anguished tones in her voice still ringing in his ears, his shortness was replaced with an inhuman rage, a protective hate. His blue eyes were consumed with an animal anger, and he brought his blade forward with a howl, his handsome face contorted and disfigured with the fierce snarl that crossed his featured. The power of the sword as it hit flesh created a smooth movement, but it wrenched and objected to the knight's arms as the metal hit bone. But, overall, the man was easily cut clean in half, surprised and wide eyes his dying look as blood seeped from his mouth and he collapsed to the ground in two pieces.  
  
Persephone remained on her knees, her skin pale, her limbs trembling as this new, unthinkable pain washed over her in waves. Her hands were still wrapped tightly around the sharp edge of the sword. Allen looked up as he heard the gliding of something in the air far above them. He could make out the dim outline of Escaflowne against the star studded sky before he rushed forward, kneeling at Persephone's side.  
  
"We have to go, Perseph." He said calmly and quietly, the two of them momentarily forgotten among the crowd of soldiers around them.   
  
She looked up at him and gave a shaky, half grin, which held no real warmth to it, but a certain amount of fear. "I... I can't let go." She said, indicating the sword. "In fact, I don't think I can even move or feel my hands. Is that bad?" She asked, but there was a certain edge of panic in her voice.  
  
Allen said nothing, but reached out and gently unpried her fingers from the blade. It fell from her hands and she whimpered through clenched teeth as the knight unfolded her badly bleeding hands completely. "Heh. I felt that." She muttered, her lips drawn, her form shaking.  
  
"We need to go." Allen's voice was soft, his brow drawn in concern for the girl, as he took her gently by the elbows and helped her up, her blood streaming down her arms and onto his already crimson stained gloves. As if on cue, the cry of men could be heard as they ducked below the low flying form of the metal dragon that swooped down over their heads. Escaflowne landed amidst the fighting, Van oblivious, as he piloted it, of the bodies the creature crushed and rammed, whether dead or alive, in the landing. Persephone saw his lips move as he cried out, but she could not hear a single syllable over the cries of the soldiers around them.  
  
It was Allen that dragged her from her frozen position, pushing through the crowds, having very little conflict before reaching the metal machine. Allen's men were seated on the great creature, most of them, at least, and they greeted the both of them warmly. Some of them looked at Persephone in surprise, half out of the fact that they thought she had stayed behind, and half out at the sight of her badly marred hands. "Hold on tight!" Van yelled out as he commanded Escaflowne into the air.  
  
The great metal creature's wings stirred and they lifted slowly from the ground. Persephone's head snapped to the side as she caught sight of the gleam of a piece of machinery and pale skin. The figure disappeared among the fighting almost instantly, but she cried out anyways. "Folken!" Her cry rang sharp through the battle roar and, even though the great Fanalian guymelef was rising steadily into the air, she could see him, emerge from the crowd. Still they rose, even as he ran forward, blood on his uniform. Five, ten feet from the ground... She reached for him, blood dripping down her fingers and onto his outstretched hand, she was so close to touching him.  
  
She saw him mouth her name as he reached for her, but she could not hear his voice above Escaflowne's wings. She grasped air, leaning over, for one contact, one final touch... She felt herself begin to slip, but two firm arms grabbed her and pulled her to the side, the dragon's great, metal back obscuring her view of her lover below. She let out a small, despairful cry, so small that it couldn't be heard by others. And Escaflowne rose higher, faster now, until they were above the clouds, the battle site below invisible through the swirling wisps. She looked up at her restrainer, and met the angry gaze of Allen. His voice reached through her dizzied and dulled senses. "What did you think you were doing? You could have fallen, broken your neck-"  
  
He was interupted as Escaflowne gave a hard jerk. The men fell and skidded to the right a little bit, one even falling off the side. Again, it was Allen who kept her from falling to her death as she grasped with hands that would not close for a hold. His hand came down, grabbed her by the collar, and pulled her back up to safety. "You shouldn't have come." He said, more out of a sudden concern than the previous anger.   
  
"It's that bastard Dillandau!" One of the knight's men shouted. Persephone's senses heightened and she looked up. Sure enough, there floated the creature, a piece of torn metal on its side where it had purposefully come into contact with the Fanalian guymelef.  
  
A growl of hatred and rage issued from Van's lips and there could be heard the insane cackling of laughter coming from the cockpit of the enemy. Dillandau surged forward, focusing on ramming Escaflowne again, hoping to throw the machine off balance. Persephone watched in wide eyed awe, torn, wanting her friends to live and win this airial combat, but desperately wishing for her brother, for that is what he was to her, to win as well so that his life might go on.  
  
Van commanded his guymelef to the side sharply, Dillandau's own unit crashing into the creatures sharply metaled tail instead of its side. The tearing and twisting of metal could be heard as Escaflowne's tail dug deep into the other guymelef. For an agonizing moment, everything seemed to stand still, but then Dillandau's unit fell, unable to fly any longer. It was without thought that Persephone moved, flinging her weary body forward. "Persephone!" Allen's voice rang clear in her ears before she fell from the side.   
  
There was this certain dread and human terror as she broke through the cloud barrier and the ground was displayed to her, far, but not too far, below. Yet, out of the pure, inhuman instinct which she carried, her wings sprang forth, disintegrating most of the material of her shirt in the back, making it hang loose around her shoulders. She dove down, angling her wings to make the descent faster, and, before long, the spinning and battered guymelef loomed before her.  
  
She landed on the burnt metal and brought one of her flaming wings forward and through the hatch which opened to the pilot. Metal melted and with a simple, though clumsy, kick of her foot, the hatch was gone. She reached forward, almost blindly, and her hands met warm flesh. She brought his still conscious form out of the machine and lifted him up in her arms, her hands too torn to hold him with them. He looked up at her with wide, scared eyes. He could hear the crash of his guymelef as it hit the earth, but he could also hear the wind as it whistled past the two gliding forms.  
  
Persephone landed softly on a part of the battle field that had been left long ago, blood and bodies piled around. The form cradled in her arms could hear her labored breathing, feel her trembling body. Dillandau felt the bond between him and the girl who held him, feel something... Love, admiration, perhaps? He was not sure. But there was also this poison, this insanity in his veins, and he felt that more prominent than the rest. He moved quickly yet gracefully, unnoticed by the exhausted girl which held him.  
  
Persephone, for one short, rare moment in time, felt a certain level of peace. She could hear Dillandau breath calmly against her, feel him pressed warmly against her chest as she cradled him there, here eyes closed. And, if she listened close enough, she could hear his steady heartbeat. The slow rhythm calmed her, reminded her of cold nights in which she would go down in the night, lay her head to his chest, be lulled by its beat. She began to speak, her eyes still closed. "Dillandau, I-"  
  
The words died in her throat and her eyes fluttered open, wide, unbelieving. The world came before her, slowly, and she stumbled to her knees, Dillandau falling from her arms. He rose quickly to his feet and met her eyes as she stared up at him, crystal tears falling down her questioning face. A grin split his lips and he began to laugh, uncontrollably, insanely, even as his own tears fell down his face as he sobbed for the deed he had done.  
  
Persephone's blood pooled around her and the ringing of an inhuman scream echoed through her mind. A last tear was shed, and she fell. Gaea shuttered, it's life escaped it in a final breath, just as it did the form on that battle field.  
  
*****************  
  
Folken had seen her come down, her wings flaming in the darkness, and he had pushed through the diminishing battle, running, in need of just the sight of her. He had come across the clearing just as it happened. His mouth opened in a silent yell, too horrified as he found he was too late to save her from the events which now unfolded. Dillandau's arm moved as she held him, quickly and gracefully drawing the sword from it's scabbard at his side as she opened her mouth and spoke to him. The words died out, strangled, though, as the boy finished the final movement, embedding the sword to its hilt into his savior's abdomen. Their was a horrible moment of frozen time, Folken's own sword falling from his grasp, hitting the bloodied ground noiselessly, as he saw her fall to her knees, her love, her "home", as she once called him, standing, laughing, sobbing, all at once.  
  
And then she fell from her kneeled position onto her side, the sword still impaling her, blood gushing from the wound. Folken found his legs suddenly and bolted forward. "Persephone!" Her name was a scream, drawn out, and as he kneeled by her motionless form, Dillandau still laughing in utter insanity behind him, he found it was too late. Her life had left her lips before she had even hit the ground.  
  
Author's Note: *blinkblink* Wow. That happened faster than I thought it would. *blinkblinkblink*  
  



	36. Default Chapter Title

Leviathan's Daughter  
GoldenEagle   
Author's Notes: Haha! Some of you thought it was over! Like I could ever rationally end with good timing! So, please read and review!  
  
Chapter Forty-Eight  
  
"Persephone disappeared."  
  
"I know. She was with us. Is she not back yet?" Allen asked as he strode onto the Schezerade, the young princess that had just spoken to him trotting to keep up.  
  
"She was with you? I haven't seen her at all." Millerna said, her face slightly concerned and puzzled at the same time. Allen sighed, gritting his teeth. She was strong, he told himself. She'd be back by dawn.  
  
"Where's Hitomi?" The young Fanalian king asked as he joined Allen at his side. Though his exterior was bold and cool, there was the slightest bit of fear, of longing for a loved one's touch written across his face.  
  
"Her and Merle are in her room. Hitomi seems to be upset about something." Millerna answered. No sooner had the words left her mouth that the king increased his pace and rounded the corner heading to that room. Allen followed. "Perhaps you could clean up before seeing the girls?" The princess said, her eyes flashing over the two of them and their bloodied forms. She was passed by unheard.  
  
The moment Van entered the room, he knew something was wrong. The two girls sat on the large bed, Merle at one end, Hitomi at another. The catgirl looked lost, as if she was unsure of what to do, while the girl from the Mystic Moon sat, her arms around her knees, her face pale, eyes wide. "Hitomi...?" Van took a hesitant step forward.  
  
A sob could be heard and then she was flying into his arms, her head against his chest, her body trembling violently. He stood there, staring down at her back, shocked and unsure of what to do. Slowly and hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around her before placing his chin on her head. "Hitomi... What's wrong?" He whispered, feeling awkward and yet comfortable at the unfamiliar feeling of her pressed against him.  
  
"I tried to stop her, but she went! She left anyways!" Another sob broke through her. "And now... Now she's dead and everything... Gaea... The cards promised a happy end!" She cried out against his chest. "What happened to the happy ending?"  
  
Allen's hand shot forward, gripping her arm, and he pulled her, without thought, from Van. "Who's dead? What are you talking about?" She stared up at him with glazed eyes, panting, before her legs gave out and she fell forward. The knight caught her easily before laying her down on the bed, Merle scampering out of the way.  
  
"She's been talking about it all night." Merle murmured. "Lord Van..." She muttered, looking up at him with wide, scared eyes. "I... I don't think she is well."  
  
He looked at her before placing his palm on Hitomi's head. It burnt with fever, her face alight with a warm flush. "She has a fever." He stated, his eyes soft.  
  
"All of you... You need to leave." Van, Allen, and Merle turned quickly, surprised, as the young yet suddenly heavy voice reached them. Princess Millerna stood, her form bent and weary, her eyes shining in defeat.  
  
"What are you talking about?" Allen asked, his brow furrowed.  
  
"She has the fever. It's been popping up from all over the ship, something I've never seen before. I... I think it's highly contagious. We've spoken to neighboring countries when it first showed up, and they're experiencing it, too. It's a plague. No one... No one has made it through the night thus far..."  
  
*****************  
  
Amy bowed before her window seal, her hands clasped together in prayer, her eyes closed as she started to say the prayer she had learned from her mother and father. Her chubby five year old face bent in concentration as she tried to remember the words. She spoke them, unheard by anyone around, and would anyone care what the child would say among the New York streets below? I doubt so.  
  
"Dear God, up above, God of patience, God of love. Please protect me while I sleep, until I'm yours to forever sleep. You gave us light in the day, you gave us the moon to make it okay. You made the shining, twinkling stars. You hung them up, safe and far. And if the sky fell tonight, please take me home, please make it right. Amen." Her big round eyes opened and she looked up. Her small, open mouth fell into an "o" shape as she looked above.  
  
There, shining in the night sky, were *two* moons, one green and blue, like earth, except not quite. She blinked. It was only a dim outline, but as she watched, a veil seemed to be lifted and the extra planet shone brightly in the night sky. It seemed to overshadow the previous moon and the white, glowing orb was cast in a deep, dark color. "Mommy!" Amy cried out as she pushed herself from her knees, her bare feet scampering across the floor. And she ran into her parent's room, crying and blubbering about the two moons, and how the old one had turned red.  
  
****************  
  
Leviathan screamed as he flew, screamed because of the pain that pounded into him, screamed because of the emotions that filled his mass, scaled chest. He was drawn to her corpse, called out by her spirit, which no longer receded in her body. And so he flew, over accumulating clouds where tornadoes and squalls brewed, searching. Searching for her body.  
  
**************  
  
"You're a fool!" Dillandau screamed out as he turned and left. "If you want to stay here and rot with all these corpses, go ahead!" And then the boy was gone.  
  
Folken sat, stunned, his eyes glazed over, her blood on his hands. He felt nothing. He felt dead. He pulled the sword from her body, slowly, as if in a dream. He slowly lowered himself to his side, his head resting in sitting blood, her blood, cold blood. Pulling her to him, hoping... Maybe, if she was by him, if she was shrouded in the heat of his body... She wouldn't be so cold... Why was she so cold...?  
  
And he lay there, her stiffening body in his arms, his eyes wide as he tried to comprehend what was happening. Not possible. This couldn't be real. A bitter smile crossed his face as the first tears started, and then it was contorted as a sob tore through him, racking his entire body. No... Not like this... He never imagined it would end like this...  
  
Perhaps he fell asleep, perhaps he was so emotionally torn that he forgot the time that passed, but when he became aware of his surrounding once more, the first rays of light were coming over the scene. Her form was still pressed against him, the lips white and ice cold, blood dried about her lips. He stared at her, wondering what had broken him from his reverie, when again it came. The slightest tremor. Carrion birds, vultures, crows, rose from the battle field with cries of warning. They screamed and Folken pulled away from the corpse even further, sitting up, his pale skin and hair stained with blood.  
  
And then the actual thing hit. A shaking, quaking, no, seizuring of the ground beneath him, shaking him to the ground, destroying his senses. He looked up and caught sight of the two moons dimming in the sky, one that of the mystic moon, the other one... The other one blood red, crimson. The world tilted, and then was calm once more. He gripped the ground, his eyes wide, him having rolled farther from Persephone's body. A few moments passed where he stayed there, on his knees, frozen, before the earth pushed upward, split open. He cried out as the earth cracked and steam arose from the crevices. Without thought, he grabbed her body. If it took his life, he'd have her burried respectfully.  
  
Fire seeped and sputtered through the cracks in the earth... No, not fire, Folken noted. Liquid, hot... magma? Volcanic activity? In this hemisphere of Gaea? The shaking stopped once more, though the lava seeped through the deep gashes in the earth. Folken caught the sound of wings, flapping, and then a hard thud as something hit the ground and made a landing. His first thoughts were of Escaflowne. Yet, why would Van come here? In search of her, perhaps?  
  
But when he looked up, the steam and heat burning his eyes, he saw a real dragon, not of metal and machine, but of scales and blood and flame. He stumbled to his feet, her corpse behind him. He reached to draw his sword, but remembered that he had dropped it earlier, in a place that was neither remembered nor within reach. Instead he stood tall, protectively, between the beast and the remains of his love.  
  
A noise that sounded much like a grinding of stones upon stones emitted from the dragon. Leviathan was laughing at him. Had Folken the natural ear that Persephone once had, he would have heard the noises that next came from the dragon as more than animal, but actual words. ~So, this is your lover, Daughter? He has either great courage or even greater stupidity, I can not yet tell which. Yet... He does have love for you, to protect you even after you are dead.~ The creature took in a deep breath. He could smell the instinctive fear from the man, and he could also see the look of one with bad memories on that pale face. ~So, is that how you lost your arm, boy?~ He asked, although he knew that he could not understand him. To get his point across, he rose a huge hand and tapped at Folken's mechanic arm with a long talon before the man could react. He jumped back, taken by surprise.  
  
"I won't let you take her. She will be respected in death, not devoured and digested like some king of animal." Folken growled, taking up his stance once more.  
  
A roar issued from Leviathan, his hot, steaming breath meeting Folken's face, whipping around his crimson stained hair. ~Eat my own flesh and blood?! Cursed creature! I should destroy you now. She is not here to protect you, murderer of my kind, weakling Zaibach bastard-~ He stopped his growling and snarling as he took in another breath, and smelt something new. Like a bird, but more... Feathers. He could smell it on the boy, a heavy scent. ~Draconian. A Draconian hybrid. Even if I wanted to kill you, the blood in you're veins is too rare to spill.~ He snarled. ~Out of my way, boy!~ His tail lashed out, knocking Folken to the side a few feet away, dangerously close to one of the deep chasms in the earth. Leviathan moved quickly and pinned him down roughly with one of his back feet, almost knocking the air from him. He hovered over her corpse, looking at her with his good eye. A glow issued from deep within him, radiating through the scales on his chest slightly in the awakening day, much as a flashlight might do through someone's cheek when on. ~It's about time we won this war of the worlds, Daughter.~ The world around Folken exploded, flame engulfed him.  
  
Author's Note: Soooo... Is Hitomi going to die? What's up with Earth being able to see Gaea? And what the HELL is up with Leviathan?! Stay tuned for the next installment!  
  



	37. Default Chapter Title

Leviathan's Daughter  
GoldenEagle  
  
Chapter Forty-Nine  
  
There was flame, a mountain of it, an explosion. And then the world shifted, and Folken felt himself in a different place altogether, and yet not there at all. A woman paced, paced in this scene within his head, mousy brown hair, big hazel eyes. She was no beauty, but there was this aura she gave off, an air of strength and stability, despite her currently wound up stature. Then the words reached him, broke through his daze of heat.   
  
"What's going on? You haven't answered any of my questions yet!" The woman growled. A calm and relaxed figure stepped from the shadows, another woman. Long, flowing silver hair, tainted blue at the tips.   
  
"Relax, Cara. Help is on the way." Her voice held a thick accent, yet calm and authoritive.  
  
"Don't tell me to relax, Dolfeen! If it weren't for you and speaking to him of that cursed legend he wouldn't be in this predicament. You think that, just because he's one of you, one of the Guardians, that he is invincible. Now look at him, laying in bed, dying of some poison of magic! Speak to me of his destiny now! Speak to me of your perfect peace, your perfect love! At least I loved him-"  
  
The other girl interrupted her with a snarl. They stood upon a white-sanded beach, a lit hut behind them, and with the silver haired girl's roar, the waves exploded around them, echoing her rage. "Not love him?! Not love him! I would have given him the world, the universe, my very life! Do not speak to me of love just because he chose your love over my own requited feelings."  
  
The girl's hazel eyes widened in rage, a hideous snarl across her face. "Do you honestly believe he would have chosen you, even if you had told him-"  
  
The whirring of wings interrupted the woman, and Folken watched, from his strange bodiless position, as the dragon, the one who had come before him, landed. Yet this version of the beast was more lean, and it lacked the clouded over eye of before. Instead, both were a glowing crimson, and it landed with a great breath of steaming air. The brown haired girl backed off, fear evident in her wide eyes. "Again, I urge you to relax, Cara. This is your lover's savior."   
  
And then, Folken heard it. The voice no other had heard except those with the Guardians' blood in their veins. That deep, musical voice. ~I've come to give my service for the Fourth. I've heard of the poison in his veins. I... believe I can help.~  
  
Dolfeen, as she had been called, bowed, a welcoming smile on her face. "Welcome, friend. I have heard much of your great loyalty to our kind, Leviathan of the Old World. Please, come, we have no time to waste."  
  
And then the scene changed, and Folken found his view focused inside the hut. There, laying in a fever and sweat, lay a man, his ruby red hair drenched in cold perspiration, his face pale, his closed eyes surrounded with dark rings. Leviathan, as the creature had been called, forced his head into the small hut opening before throwing his neck back quickly. The entire shelter flew into the air, to the side, revealing the dark sky and diamond stars.  
  
~I've never done this before.~ He muttered with a deep, primal growl.  
  
"We have faith in you." Dolfeen muttered, her pale hand on the creature's scaled neck, though her eyes were frozen on the unconscious form. And Folken saw what she had said earlier was true. She did have a love for this man, a painful love, a love he somehow knew she was forever destined to keep silent.  
  
That's when things seemed to drift in a familiar direction. A faint glow issued from the dragon's armored chest, not quite as brilliant as Folken remembered it doing so above Persephone. As the odd light increased, the man's eyes fluttered open. If the Fanalian Prince had the breath to do so, he would have taken a short gasp. The man's eyes, they were red. The blood red, crimson and flowing. Before he had time for more thoughts, the world exploded, in the same flame that had consumed the moment when Folken had been pinned down below the beast's great foot.  
  
Through the flame, he could see the man, rising, fire wings flowing, erupting from his back. The girl, Dolfeen, cried out, tears of joy, because she knew. Knew that he would be saved.  
  
Rose, rose, flaming, and Folken realized that he wasn't in the vision any longer, realized that the man had been traded for another, had been traded for... "Persephone?" He whispered her name through dry lips. And in those final moments, Leviathan, the great beast, taking his final breaths, looked down at him. The dragon used that link, the link he had established moments before, and spoke.  
  
~Just as I gave my life then, I give my life now. Do not... Do not let her forget me, hm?~ A wry grin cracked the creature's lips before a final white blast shattered Folken's senses, and he was out cold.  
  
************  
  
Van Fanel, the king of a kingdom that was no more, sat, his head hung, his hands desperately trying to rub warmth back into the cold palms within his grasp. They had allowed him to stay, for he would not allow it any other way. So while the others were in hiding from the disease, he refused to turn away from it, refused to leave her. Hitomi took in a shuttering breath before releasing it. This sound was the only twisted comfort he could find, her gasping and sputtering keeping him from losing hope. He kept rhythm with her breath, taking in air only when she would, releasing it, only when she would. In... Out... In... Out... In......... Out.  
  
Van didn't know why he had held his breath before he realized the reason. His eyes widened as he turned his gaze on Hitomi. Her face was pale, unmoving, her chest frozen. "Hi- Hitomi?" The king's voice was quiet as he slowly took her in, her lips fading to a shade of blue. "Hitomi!" It was a cry now, enraged at what had happened. "Don't you even think about it! Hitomi! Hitomi!!" His voice rose and then faded, and then with a final outburst of confusion and loss, he gripped her shirt material and laid his head against her chest, tears of utter rage and misunderstanding welling in his blurred eyes.   
  
And then, without completely understanding why, those tears stopped, and Van raised his head, slowly up to her face. He heard it then, more calm than before, more steady. In. Out. In. Out. Green eyes fluttered open, glowing against her pale face, the fever gone from them. A small smile filtered across her blue lips, which were now shifting to the usual pink. "Hitomi?" He was almost too afraid to speak at all; afraid the sound of his own voice would shatter this dream.  
  
Tears coursed down her face. "The Aeon... I should have known. It spoke of fire and rebirth... The phoenix, the Aeon... Persephone... She's alright..."  
  
***********  
  
Folken woke, his eyes fluttering open. He was pinned down, pinned down by... Ivory? Bones? The memories hit him with a sudden rush and he pushed the large object off of him before stumbling to his knees. His eyes widened as he saw the mass skeleton of a reptile, a dragon... Leviathan, the beast, nothing left but white bones which seemed to be covered in stardust, glowing in the moonlight. And there, at the center of the tangled jungle of ivory, was a jewel. A dragenergist, Folken realized with a few slow blinks. He stepped over the huge animal's breastbone, Leviathan's ribcage jutting up into the sky, longer and taller than him.   
  
With a slow, deliberate move, he reached out and took the jewel. It throbbed and glowed to life at his touch. The energist was breathtaking, in constant motion, of red and black and orange and yellow and, deep inside, a blue wisp. Like a fire raged within the heated stone. It was hot to Folken's touch, almost too hot when held long, and he let out a shuttering breath.  
  
He was stepping over the ancient bones, out of the center of its ribcage, when his foot caught and he stumbled forward, being thrown to the ground. He groaned as he felt something hard shoved into his gut, as if he had been kicked... No, it felt more like someone's knee... "Persephone..." his voice was a whisper as he opened his eyes slowly, almost too afraid to breath.   
  
And there she lay below him, her eyes closed, but instead of the deathly paleness, her cheeks were flushed, as if she had taken a long run. Her chest rose steadily, and she stirred in her sleep. Folken was frozen, for a split second, before he pushed her shirt up, looking for the wound that he thought had killed her. A large scar was in its place, pink and tender as if it had just completed healing. He touched it with his one good hand, but drew back his hand quickly at the heat that met his fingers. It was an almost unbearable heat, like a strange fire. He felt it radiating off of her now, noticed it as it surrounded him as if there were embers smoldering beneath him. "Persephone... Wake up." He muttered, not noticing the tears that fell down his face, mixing with the suite there and turning black. One fell from his face, and then another. The first hit the ground, but the second fell onto her upturned face. A flicker of instinctive agitation crossed her face, as it might when a fly lands on someone's nose in their sleep.   
  
She let out a small groan before opening her clear, blue eyes. She was met by a pair of grey ones and a sigh escaped her mouth. "Folken, I had the worst dream... Dillandau was laughing at me, but he was crying... I was afraid I had hurt him somehow, and I felt as if my entire body were in flames and I cried..." She closed her eyes and laughed in dreamy remembrance, unaware of the increased flow of tears on Folken's face. "I dreamed I was dead and that I'd never see you again." Her eyes fluttered open and her face contorted into a concerned frown as she saw the look on his face. "Folken, it was a dream... Wasn't it?" Her eyes brimmed with tears and she sat up quickly, looking around her. The ground was blackened with the previous fire and the air still smelled of sulfur. And there lay the mass skeleton. Her eyes widened. "Leviathan."   
  
She turned towards him. His head was still bowed, his form still in the same position, and his shoulders shook slightly from held back sobs. The tears increased on Persephone's face, her eyes squinted, her mouth pulled down as she tried to fight the tears. "Folken... Oh, God, Folken, what happened? What happened to me?" She leant into his form and was welcomed with open arms as he pulled her to him violently. She couldn't move to comfort him, besides the tightly pressed hug they were in now, so she merely moved her head, kissing his shoulder blade, his neck, with light brushes. And they stayed that way for a long while, the two moons shining high above, one a beautiful blue and green, the other a snow white.  
  
Author's Note: yes, yes, I couldn't let her die. Not just yet... I have plans for her yet. No, I'm not done, and PLEASE don't tell me it's cliché and corny that I brought her back, cause I know that already. * sigh * So, I have a little bit more. Actually, only about three or four more. I know that for sure. The next one is going to be a lemon (hopefully, depends on how my mind goes through), but for those of you who don't like that stuff, I'll make it to where you can skip it and still know what's going on. Anywho, please read and review! My comp crashed, so I'm writing all of this on a laptop and a different program, so it's kinda weird for me. Oh, by the way, if you were wondering what the vision Folken had was, it was when the Fourth Guardian was poisoned, kind of. Leviathan mentioned it earlier. That was his "son", as he put it. Sorry that had to go with an explanation. Hehe. * sweat drops *  



	38. Default Chapter Title

Leviathan's Daughter  
GoldenEagle  
  
Author's Notes: Yep, this is my first lemon, folks, so forgive me if it sucks. If you don't like lemons, you can skip over this to the next chapter and still know what's going on. Read and review please!  
  
Chapter Fifty  
  
"I was afraid he wasn't going to let us in." Persephone muttered as the two gazed around the large, over decorated room.   
  
"Money gets you anywhere..."   
  
She laughed out loud. "I think you scared him, with all the blood in your hair and your big, metal arm! By the way, how did you take a shower without blowing a circuit?" Persephone felt like she had drunken five cups of coffee, she was on such a high, and after the both of them had cleaned up, she felt even more so. She spun around the large Hotel room. "Remember when I first gave it to you? You were so young then. We both were." She muttered, wrapping her arms around her waist. "That was a long time ago, wasn't it?" She turned to him, her breath catching when she found him closer than she had thought.  
  
"Really, Persephone, you're making us sound old." He said with a wry grin. She returned the smirk. The look slowly dissipated as he looked down at her. "I'm glad you're okay." He said slowly before he pulled her into an embrace.   
  
"Folken, I..." Her head rested gently against his chest and she sighed contentedly.   
  
Her heat was still above normal and as her body pressed into his he felt shivers shooting through his system. He pulled away quickly, embarrassed as he felt the tightening in his groin. He turned from her, his face slightly reddening. He coughed. "Sorry, I just-"  
  
He turned to her again, a confused look on her face. She reached out to him and he took her hands gently, standing at arms length. He looked down at the delicate hands before turning her palms up. He frowned as he took in the pink scars that deformed the surface. "How did you get these?"  
  
"In the battle, someone came at me with a sword. I... grabbed the blade with my hands. I completely forgot about it." She said, a small smile on her face.  
  
Folken nodded. "I doubt you'll be able to fight again, with the damage done."  
  
She laughed. "That's a relief-" Her breath caught in her throat as he used his good hand and ran his fingers over the scar. The skin was sensitive and the heat of his hands on her palms seemed to spread without her. She released a shuttering breath. They stayed like that for maybe a minute before Persephone couldn't contain it any longer. She pushed forward and pushed her lips to his desperately. He stood frozen for a moment, the lips unnaturally and erotically hot against his own, before he responded, his metal arm curling around her waist, pushing her against him.  
  
She gasped through the kiss as she felt his now evident erection against her inner thigh. His lips left hers and she let out a small growl in objection before it died in her throat as his lips followed her jaw line, down to her throat, to her collarbone. He paused, his hands hovering over her blouse. "Are you sure about his?" He murmured, his breath hot against her neck, his eyes slightly lowered.  
  
"Oh, hell, yes." She muttered. He responded immediately, his hands fumbling with the buttons on her shirt. In frustration he ripped it from her body, revealing a simple and plain bra, one she had gotten long ago. Folken moved slowly, as if it were a dream he didn't want to wake up from. His hands inched behind her back before reaching the strap. With a simple movement of his hand, it went loose. He looked up at her, almost uncertainly; perhaps afraid she had changed her mind. He was met with her gaze, clouded with passion, and she shifted her shoulders, the material sliding down a bit before falling to the ground. She took a short breath in as the cooler air hit her bare skin.  
  
"Persephone, I... I've never done this before. I'm afraid I'll disappoint you." He muttered honestly. She stared into his eyes a moment longer before smiling.  
  
"Is it even possible for you to disappoint me?" A tear ran down her cheek. "I love you, Folken. I love you."  
  
A smile cracked his face, overjoyed, before he continued on. His mouth ran down her breast before he reached the center. He paused before his tongue flashed out, teasing the tip of her nipple, and she gasped in, her hands wringing through his hair. He covered its tip with his mouth before sucking at it. A whimper broke from her mouth, which only put him into more of a passioned frenzy.  
  
As he continued with her breast, his hand slipped below the waste band of her pants, searching for what he knew was there. He pushed his fingers against her wetness and she took even more of an intake of breath than before, a sweat breaking out over her shuddering form. He continued on with her chest as he slipped his fingers further, and then into her. She let out a moan as he brought them in and out of her in a steady motion.  
  
"Folken, get up... Folken... Folken!" She hissed out now, annoyed through her passion. She reached down and placed her hands between his legs, squeezing, bringing him up. He gasped in, his hand slipping out from between her legs, his mouth pulling away from her chest. He looked up at her, slightly confused, before she pushed him back, kissing him, onto the bed behind. As they hit the mattress she pulled away slightly from his lips and tongue. "I need... you... inside of me..." She muttered, having a hard time finding her breath.   
  
She pulled at his shirt, lifting it from his chest, before her hands played against it. She stared at her flesh against his for a second, him watching her. He moved slowly, his hands unbuttoning her pants. She complied and pushed herself to her knees, slightly agitated that it was taking her so long to remove the material. But, in the end, it landed at the side of the bed and she helped Folken take off his own pants.  
  
She could see him straining against the material of his undergarments and she moved swiftly, pulling it from him, to his knees, where he took care of the rest. She looked down at his erection, her hands hovering over him, before falling to him. She ran the tips of her fingers over his tip, teasingly. He let out a groan before pushing her back and literally ripping her underwear away with his metal hand. She reached up to him, grasping hold of him, before guiding him to her center. "Folken-"  
  
Her breath left her as he entered into her. She closed her eyes, reveling in the feeling. This was different. Different than the other times, when it was forced. No, he fit her perfectly. Perfectly.   
  
The rhythm started slow, as he moved in and out of her gently, almost afraid that he'd hurt her. But as the tightening in his groin grew even more intense, he lost control. The beat increased, her rising to each stroke, and he began to pound into her, both grunting with effort.   
  
Persephone felt her muscles tighten around him and she cried out as the ecstasy hit her in waves, crashing over her form in sets. At the feeling of her tightening around him, he released, and a howl erupted from him, along with something else. As she felt him fill her she was taken unawares, her eyes going wide as her body slumped and relaxed, as feathers floated down, to her face, tickling her nose. His full weight fell against her, his head to her breasts, and his two, stardust wings surrounded the two of them, Persephone unable to see anything except his flushed face and his glowing feathers. Their lips met in a soft kiss before he pulled away slightly, his wings still extended, and he placed his head on her chest, listening to her heartbeats and the rise and fall of her ribcage as she breathed. She sighed, her solace there for one moment in time, and she ran her hands through his hair before her eyelids fluttered closed in a content sleep.   
  
Author's Note: So there it is. Please read and review! Forgive me if it stank. I don't have much... erm... experience in this field. Next part coming soon!  



	39. Default Chapter Title

Leviathan's Daughter  
GoldenEagle  
  
Author's Notes: Okay. Drawing this to a close. Only two more installments. So please enjoy. Oh, and if you skipped the last chapter, the only important think is that Perseph and Folken made luv and Folken stated that she couldn't fight anymore because of the damage on her hands. Oh, and they had gone into a small town outside the battle. Besides that, I'm not sure what else needs to be said. Read and review!  
  
Chapter Fifty-One  
  
"I think you're full of it." Persephone said laughing. Folken smiled back at her, the smile he hadn't been able to get rid of all morning. She laughed as she pulled back her spoon and released it. A kiwi slice flew forward and hit him right above his eyebrows. He looked up and she began laughing. His grin grew larger as he wiped the fruit from his forehead. A small pause ensued before he lunged forward. Persephone started laughing as he grabbed her by the wrists before she could dart away. Her robe hung loosely around her as he drew her to him.  
  
"I think you're too cocky for your own good, Lady Persephone." Folken grinned down at her. She leant forward and pecked the tip of his nose before taking him unawares and pushing away. She left him there, still locked in place, his chest bare, his pants unbuckled and loose around his waist. Persephone rushed into the bathroom. He could hear the water running before she poked her head out the door.   
  
"You are coming, right?" She said sweetly, a fake innocence in her voice. He looked at her with an eyebrow cocked for a moment before he broke into a full grin. He sprinted towards her and she laughed out as he wrapped his arms around her and kissing her from behind before pulling her into the restroom after him.  
  
**********  
  
"You sure it's safe?" Persephone muttered as she glanced around cautiously while they stepped out of the hotel room.   
  
"Pretty sure." Folken muttered, also throwing a quick glance around. "We're in Mirama, and you know as well as I do that they're against Zaibach. We shouldn't run into anyone."  
  
She nodded and shifted her jaw from side to side, trying to rid it of the stiffness that had formed there. It had felt so nice to be at peace, but as soon as she saw the real world, the paranoia came back. Would she always be this nervous? Would she always be the cautious warrior? "You okay?" Folken's voice broke her from her reverie and she smiled up at him.   
  
"Yeah, I think so. Let's just go out and relax." He nodded and they trotted down the stairs and into the main lobby before exiting the building. Persephone squinted her eyes as the late morning sun hit her sensitive eyes.   
  
"Where do you want to go first?" Folken asked next to her. He stood close enough to her that she could feel him, and they'd brush against each other every once in a while, but far enough apart that she wasn't overwhelmed by the city's humidity and heat.  
  
"Let's just... walk. Let's just be normal people for once. Peasants or something." And so they did so, down busy and crowded streets, close enough to feel each other, but far enough apart to be strong. Strength was a thing both of them needed in times like these. They walked on like this for a few minutes, listening to people talk of the great battle that Mirama had lost, before either one said anything. "You're going to leave again, aren't you?" Persephone's voice was cold and hurt at the same time, and Folken could feel her pull a little farther away.   
  
He stopped abruptly at the question. It took a moment before she realized she had left him a few feet behind and she stopped as well, turning to him. "I'm not going back." He stated plainly. A relieved look crossed her face and she nodded as he took his original position next to her and they continued on in comfortable silence.   
  
Persephone watched the world around her as if she were staring at it through a window. People talked and tried to get money and just lived out everything as if the world would go on forever. They had a routine. She tried to remember back to when she had that, back in the orphanage when she'd wake up and lay in bed for an hour before going downstairs to eat breakfast, only to return to her room, alone, withdrawn. And could she go back to a life of routine now? Her life had been different and new every day for the last ten years. It tired her and yet it was the only life she was capable of living now. She sighed, leaning into Folken more fully now, the left side of his chest against her as they walked. He turned his head and kissed her gently on her ear lobe. She forced a smile. Wow. It had been a long while since she had even thought of Earth. Well, she would see it in the sky and everything, but she hadn't thought of it as the home she once had in a long, long time.  
  
"Hm... You smell good..." Folken said, trying to lighten the suddenly heavy mood. She felt his breath hot against her neck. "Or maybe it's the horse dung. I can't distinguish the two scents. Both so prominent and enchanting." He said it so seriously that it took her a while to reply.   
  
And when she took in his words, she couldn't help but break into a grin. She spun around and grabbed him by the collar of his cape, which he wore to cover his metal arm. "God, I love you." She was surprised that she hadn't come up with a quick retort, but instead had made a quite serious statement. His grey eyes warmed and he smiled. She realized that she had seen him smile more in the last twenty-four hours than ever before.  
  
"I love you, too." He said very plainly and sincerely.   
  
"Good." She replied bluntly before turning, though she grabbed him by his hands and wrapped his arms around her waist. She caught sight of a great group of flowers and merchant's stands. "This way, lover boy." She muttered with a wry grin.  
  
Folken's gaze caught on a group of men arguing on the other side of the square. He caught several words on Zaibach and his interests peaked. "Hey, let's see what they're talking about-"  
  
"No, I won't talk politics!" She growled back, only half playful. "I'm going to go get some flowers." She said, pulling from his grasp and heading towards the hanging plants.  
  
Folken furrowed his eyebrows before sighing. "Just don't get out of sight." He said, his eyes still on her as he started to walk to the other corner of the square, a frown creasing his face.  
  
"Yes, father!" She spun around, saying sarcastically. She quickly turned back around, confident that he would be there, in sight. She bowed her head to smell a flower that has never grown on earth before, a beautiful, velvety white thing. The fragrance drifted into her senses and she sighed contentedly. She lifted her hand to touch a red rose, but found herself stumbling backwards. She caught herself before she fell, her complexion paling.   
  
Another tremor drifted from the depths of her and grew, making her feel amazingly weak. She was bent over slightly as another, more powerful tremor passed through her. The pain hit then, and she looked up, her eyes wide. "Hey, lady. You okay?" One of the merchants bent down to help her, but stumbled back as he took in her eyes. Pain, pounding into her, stabbing through her. She looked up, desperately, looking for him, but she couldn't see him over the heads of the other people in the square.  
  
*Folken *  
  
************  
  
Folken listened as the group talked of rumors of Zaibach attacks. He recognized some as truth, and others as obvious tales, and then some he could not tell which one it was. * Folken * It pounded into his head, distracting him from his concentration. He looked up, his eyes widening slightly as he turned. "Persephone." He muttered.  
  
It was then that he heard the first person cry out. He pushed through the people in the square, coming upon the growing crowd. As he reached it he saw her laying there, a small pool of blood forming around her down turned head. "Persephone!" He pushed past the people and stumbled to her side. He lifted her head, blood spread across her lips.  
  
Her eyes fluttered open just half way and he saw there the blood pupils. "I can't escape..." She muttered before her eyes shut, crimson tears streaming down her face, and she relaxed in his arms, her body shaking slightly in his grasp, though she breathed steadily. Folken growled out in anger as he picked up her limp form, ignoring the gawking onlookers. Dornkirk... The Machine... Were they not free of this war yet?  



	40. Default Chapter Title

Leviathan's Daughter  
GoldenEagle  
  
Author's Notes: This is the second to last installment. I haven't seen the entire series (unfortunately) but I'm rounding this up in my own version. So please forgive me for major discrepancies and also for any bad writing on my part. Read and review!  
  
Chapter Fifty-Two  
  
Folken was on the balcony, leaning out over the railing, the moons shining down on him, a crisp breeze ruffling his hair. It had been two days since she had fallen. Two days and she wasn't awake yet. He sighed, looking down to the bustling streets below.  
  
"Penny for your thoughts?" The coarse, small voice startled him and he turned quickly. Persephone stood, leaning against the doorway, blankets wrapped around her and cascading to the floor. The moons' lights hit the folds and creases, making them look a little more expensive than they really were.   
  
"I'm glad you're awake." Folken said in his serious, deadpan voice. She sighed and walked towards him, shakily, and he welcomed her into his embrace from behind. They both turned their attention to the outside.  
  
Persephone turned her head to look up at him and frowned slightly as she saw his gaze seem more than just wandering, but rather intense in one direction. A painful rage built in her. "You're thinking of Zaibach, right?" She asked, her voice cold, her eyes cast to the horizon, in the direction he was looking, in the direction of that empire.  
  
His sigh was loud against her ear, but he didn't answer her question. Instead he asked one of his own. "How are you feeling? You were out for a couple of days. It seems you might have a fever."  
  
"I'm sure I do." She stated plainly, slightly peeved that he wouldn't answer her question, but letting it drop, anyway. "I kind of feel like I have the flu."  
  
"Flu?" He asked, slightly confused.  
  
"An... Earth virus. Bacteria, actually." She stated.  
  
He nodded. "Sometimes I forget you're from there."  
  
"I'm not, really. Not anymore, at least. Gaea's in my blood." This comment pushed them both into silence because of the remembrance of her "sickness".  
  
"You should go clean up. I'm sure you'll feel better after it's done." Persephone nodded before turning in his arms. She kissed him lightly before pushing deeper, their tongues and lips meeting gently, comforting. She pulled away after a short moment, looking down.  
  
"You won't leave me." It was more of a statement than a question and he merely nodded. She pulled from him, still not meeting his eyes, before walking to the bathroom. Folken turned once more, his gaze on the horizon, his thoughts consumed by Zaibach.  
  
***************  
  
The hot water of the shower cascaded down Persephone's body, and she took a few breaths in, to calm herself, letting the water sooth her nerves. She felt sick and weak and more than a little scared. It was a troubling thought that Dornkirk could strike her down, without thought or reason, from a multitude of miles between them. She sighed, looking down at her lean form as the water washed over it. She was surprised to find that she had actually lost weight since she had been out. A great deal of weight, too. She stuck her hand out from behind the curtains of the shower and glared at herself in the mirror. Great black circles ringed her eyes and her skin was a sickly color. She bit her lip as she returned to the running water. She was scared. Scared because something was destroying her, an outside force, and she couldn't escape. Again she calmed herself. Everything would be fine. She'd get over this, and Zaibach would be overthrown, if all went well. All she had to do was wait this out-  
  
She doubled over, the water suddenly seeming too hot, a pain issuing throughout her entire body. One hand was wrapped around her abdomen while the other was spread against the cool stonewall of the shower. Her eyes were wide as another wave of pain hit her. Not again. Surely not this soon. Yet, despite her rationalizing, her body heaved, and blood flowed from her lips. She closed her eyes, feeling the stinging rising in them as the blood flowed there. No... No... She was too weak. Not this soon. Her legs gave out beneath her and she hit the ground painfully before laying on her side. The world dimmed around her, the last things she remembered was that of the water cascading down her skin and the coppery taste of blood in her mouth.  
  
****************  
  
Folken stood on the balcony still, his gaze focused outward, along with his attention. Something was nagging at him, in the back of his mind. Something he didn't pay any attention to. And still it pulled. He gave out an angry growl before turning away from the outside world, back towards the hotel room. As soon as his attention was detached from Zaibach, the instinctive feeling grew stronger, and his heart began to pound. Something was wrong. He walked inside, glancing around for an intruder that could have triggered this feeling of something askew, but found nothing. A pain, in his heart, something pulling, pounding. He rushed forward, towards the bathroom door, opening it without thought. Steam filled the room and he glanced around, noticing the closed shower curtains. "Persephone?" He asked plainly before pushing the material back.  
  
She was there, laying on her side, her eyes closed. Water pounded across her pale face and he lifted her up. He figured she passed out, from the fever, perhaps. Water dripped to the floor from her bare form as he walked her back to the bed, laying her down before reaching for the covers that she had left at the side. As he turned, covering her, his breath caught. Something was wrong. Her breathing was weak, wheezing, shaking. His eyebrows furrowed. Surely... Surely, not so soon... But his fears were brought to light as he lifted her eyelid and was once more met with the crimson shifting.  
  
Fear embedded itself in his heart. She was too weak... She couldn't handle this. She'd give out. A snarl of rage escaped him and he turned quickly, his metal hand smashing into the wall, leaving a heavy dent.   
  
***************  
  
A week. It had been a damn week since she had been struck again. Folken had been at her side, unable to give her any food, and only a little water. She was dying. Dying before his eyes. A decision had reached him, one that was very important. It was on the night of this seventh day that he was awoken by the stirring next to him. He turned in the bed, his eyes intent on the form that slept next to him. Her eyes remained closed, and he was turning to his side once more, hopelessness washing over him, when he saw her face twitch momentarily before her eyes opened a crack. "Persephone?"  
  
Her eyes floated to him and he moved to the side quickly, bringing the light up in the room. He turned to her again and she moved her lips weakly, trying to form words. Finally, she said them. "Water..." It was the only word she could get out. Folken acted immediately, jumping from the bed, grabbing a pitcher of water he always kept to the side. He poured it to a cup and brought it to her lips. She drank slowly, weakly, before motioning to him that she needed more. She drank a couple of glasses before closing her eyes, an indication that it was enough.  
  
"Are you hungry?" He questioned, kneeling by the bedside.  
  
It was a few moments before a reply was given. "Yes, but I think I need to rest before I give that a try." Her words were barely heard.  
  
"I love you, Persephone. I want you to know that. I want you to keep that with you. Always." He said quietly yet urgently. She opened her eyes a crack and smiled a troubled smile.  
  
"I love you too, Folken, but it's not like I'm going to die on you or anything." She muttered before falling back asleep.  
  
Folken looked down. "It wasn't you that I was thinking would die."  
  
***************  
  
Persephone woke, feeling extremely weak, a cool breeze floating in through the open doors that led to the balcony. Hunger and thirst consumed her, and she used all her strength to slide up and look around the room. "Folken?" She questioned tiredly.  
  
"Hello."  
  
"Yah!" She yelped and fell back, scrambling in vane as the voice came close to her ear. She looked upon the speaker and found a short, round old woman. Persephone looked closer, her eyes squinted. "Do I... know you?"  
  
The woman chuckled, circling the bed, preparing a meal of fruits and juice for the bedridden girl's breakfast. "Surely you remember me, child."  
  
Persephone's eyes widened. "Zenla! Is that you?!"   
  
"Don't over excite yourself."  
  
"But the last time I saw you was-"  
  
"Long ago. Yes, I know, child." She chuckled. "I was there, remember? I cared for you before you were taken away for training. Shortly after you were taken I left the Empire. I was tired of the cold ships. They gave me frightful allergies."  
  
Persephone relaxed as the woman laid a platter of food before her, and she took a small bite of a strawberry before looking around once more. "How did you get here? What are you doing here?" She paused, her voice tainted a bit with concern as she asked the last question. "Where's Folken?"  
  
The woman paused and looked up. "Ah, yes. Folken. We ran across each other in the square a few days ago. He didn't recognize me on sight, but I recognized him. I told you he was nothing but trouble when you brought him in. I imagine I was wrong." She paused, a carefully hidden look on her face. "Once I made myself known to him, he mentioned that he was at the market to buy some things, for you were sick. He then asked me if I would mind caring for you if he asked me to."  
  
Persephone frowned at the woman. "So... Where is he?"  
  
The lady sighed. "He came to me in the middle of the night. He told me where to find you, and that I needed only to feed and care for you. He also told me to give you this." She pulled out a large, leather bag from the folds of fabric around her and handed it to the girl.  
  
She opened it cautiously, an air of forbidding surrounding her. She reached in and grabbed the first thing that met her fingers. It was warm and hard, smooth and cut. She pulled it out and found that it was an energist. She stared at it in confusion before she recognized it as what it was. "Leviathan." She muttered. She turned back to the bag and reached in once more. Her hands met with something small and hard. She withdrew it as well. It was a wring, silver, with rubies embedded in it. On one side a delicate symbol was etched. A Fanalian crest. She had never seen him wear it before. Perhaps he had hidden it in shame. She was not sure.  
  
She placed the ring over her ring finger of her right hand and stared down at it. As she watched, it seemed to conform to the size of her finger and fit snuggly around it. She raised an eyebrow. Perhaps there was magic to the thing. She reached in once more to the bag and was met with the touch of something soft and light. She got a puzzled look on her face before she pulled it out. She breathed in deeply as she looked upon it. A feather, long in length. But it wasn't the feather itself that troubled her, but the color. A deep black, a signature of what was to come. She dropped it, her face unbelieving, her eyes filling with tears at what he had said wordlessly with that object. "No..."  
  
The older woman looked down on her apologetically. "He left in the direction of Zaibach at dawn. It was obvious he loved you. Look, child, I'm sure he'll return." She said, trying to comfort her.  
  
Persephone pulled away, pushing the platter of food off of her and onto the floor. She laid her head on the pillow. He left... Left for Zaibach... The feather... black... The Machine... Her sickness... His kisses, comforting, protective... protective... "No..."  
  
Author's notes: If you don't understand what's happened, Folken left for Zaibach to kill off Dornkirk and be rid of the Fate Machine to keep Perseph from dying. He's decided that he is to die, as he did in the show (which I haven't seen, but read about). Anywho, only one more installment! Yippee!  



	41. Default Chapter Title

Leviathan's Daughter  
GoldenEagle  
  
Author's Notes: Yep. This is the last installment! Read and review!  
  
Epilogue  
  
It had been two months since the Destiny Wars ended, two months since King Van de Fanel had returned to rebuild his kingdom, two months since the heroine of Gaean legend, Hitomi Kanzaki, had returned to the Mystic Moon, and two months since Celena Schezar had... well, * been* Celena Schezar. It wasn't that she was clueless to what had happened to her. She heard the rumors among her brother's crew, she saw how people watched her in awe and fear, and she certainly felt something in her that was unrecognizable, even to herself. Yet all she could truly draw from all this information was that she had some link to the currently fallen Zaibach Empire that was less than honorable.  
  
The warm, Fanalian wind ruffled her silver hair. She sighed contentedly as she looked over the rubble and newly rising buildings below her hilltop camp. It was night and comfortable in atmosphere. It was enjoyable, to say the least. King Van had invited them to have a short view of his kingdom's progress so far and her brother had agreed to come. He had dragged along Celena unwillingly, as he always did, so he could keep close watch over her. Sometimes she felt like more of a prisoner than a noblewoman. But not on nights like these, with the moons shining overhead, the land laid out below her. The King had apologized that there were no proper accommodations yet built, but she was glad that there were not.   
  
She looked down over the growing Fanalia. The palace was being built, but not yet even close to being finished. Civilian residences were growing on the borders of the castle's mapped out courtyards, but slowly, as if the people were just finding their way back, hesitantly. And then there was a large dome, kind of in the forest, secluded. It was magnificent, large. Celena had heard of it as a memorial. People said it held the great Escaflowne. People also said it held the tomb of the King's brother, who was the one who destroyed the Emperor Dornkirk. Yet few saw him as the true hero. Some said he actually helped destroy Fanalia. These rumors only confused Celena, for no one seemed to know the truth.  
  
"Celena, inside! It's late. We have a lot to see in the morning." Allen's voice drifted to her in the warm air and she turned, sighing, returning to the tent within the encampment, the one she shared with her brother, the "Heavenly Knight", as they called him.  
  
***************  
  
Celena turned, breathing hard. Nightmares of fire and blood in her head. Nightmares she never remembered when the morning came. Screaming, Fanalian houses and people burning, and then... Blue eyes, wide and questioning, betrayal, laughter, blood, fire, fire, fire...  
  
Peace settled over her quickly, as water does when someone jumps into a lake, and she sighed. It was a peace she had never felt in the midst of these nightmares. Yet the peace was not unrecognizable. It held a quality that she had known long ago, in times when she was somebody else, in times she could not remember.  
  
*************  
  
Allen Schezar woke from his sleep in a jolt, but didn't move a muscle. He sensed someone in the tent with him, someone besides Celena. He moved quietly, drawing his sword from its scabbard next to his place of sleep. He padded to his sleep and found, to his horror, that he could see the outline of the figure next to his sister's bed, bent over. He moved into the moons' light which flowed through the opening quietly. "I would rise, slowly." He said, his voice low, menacing.  
  
The figure lifted its head and Allen realized that it had been at Celena's chest, ear down, as if... listening? The figure rose, quietly, and as the moons' light floated through the tent opening and onto flaming hair and pale skin, the knight's eyes went wide. "I thought we had already been through this, Allen." The voice said, low and quiet.  
  
Allen lowered his sword. "Persephone. I thought you were-"  
  
"Dead?" She asked with a smirk. All he could do was nod in reply. "Not quite." She turned and looked down at Celena's sleeping form. "Is it true? Is she... him?"  
  
The knight looked down. "No. She once was. But not anymore."  
  
Persephone sighed. "I used to come in, late at night, like this, and listen to his heartbeat. I had no idea... I should leave." She muttered, exiting the tent quickly. Allen followed, right on her heels.  
  
"Wait!" He hissed out, trying not to wake any of the others sleeping in the encampment. She turned to him, her eyes on him cautiously, as if she did not know him at all. He hesitated before speaking. "Stay here. With me and Celena." A pained expression crossed her face and she turned her gaze to the growing Fanalia.  
  
"I can't, Allen. I... don't have those feelings. I can't have those feelings." She sighed, looking down to the dome that held his body, far below. "He had my heart." She whispered barely above the wind. "It is buried there, with him."   
  
The knight looked down, his chest tightening. "Where will you go?"  
  
She gazed back at him before glancing up quickly, towards the moons. "There. I'm going back... home." She choked on the words, the lie. Home. Gaea was her home. But how could she stay here when there was nothing but memories? Memories of an enemy she made her own, of a little boy maniac who she loved but was now a completely different person, different gender, even. No one would remember her. Folken dead. Dillandau now Celena, no memories of her. There was Allen, but she would only let him down. And what of Van and Merle? She never had any true connection to them.   
  
"Why go back?" Allen's voice was hurt, as if she had already let him down.  
  
"I am dead to Gaea. It has given me everything I've ever had and then taken it all from me. Perhaps I can find solace back on Earth- the Mystic Moon."  
  
He sighed, recognizing the resolution in her voice. "I wish you good luck then, Lady Persephone." He gave a quick bow. "Perhaps you could tell Hitomi I wish her the same?"  
  
Persephone looked back, surprised. "Hitomi..." The girl, the one with emerald green eyes, the one in the angel costume. She had a good heart. "Perhaps I will seek her out-" she interrupted her own words. "No. I need no links back to Gaea. None more than I already have."  
  
"Then I guess this is farewell?"  
  
Persephone looked around, a broken Fanalia below her, rebuilding itself, the two moons above her. A deep pain settled in her chest. She would... miss Gaea. "Yes. Goodbye, dear friend." She muttered, tempted to embrace him and cry the tears building in her, but keeping herself at a safe distance. She had handled pain on Earth and had survived by withdrawing from the world. She would do the same now.  
  
"Goodbye, Persephone."   
  
Author's Note: It's done. Yes, I know. A sudden end. I'm thinking of a sequel, but I still need to piece it together in my head, cause the plot is kind of complex. Well, anywho, please review!!! PLEASE!!!  



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